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'«HE 


REV.  THOMAS    SCOTT,  D.  D. 

RECTOR   OF    ASTON   SANDFORD,  BUCKS; 
INCLUDING 

A    NARRATIVE    DRAWN    UP    BY    HIMSELF, 

AN© 

COPIOUS  EXTRACTS   OF  HIS  LETTERS. 


BY  JOHN    SCOTT,  A.  M. 

ricar  of  North  Ferxiby,  and  ^M'^ister  of  St.  Mary^s,  Hull. 


"They  plorifie<I  God  in  me."— GAL.  i,  24. 

**!  labored  more  abundantly— yet  not  I,  but  the  grace  of  God  which  was  with  me. 

1  COR.  XV,  10. 


BOSTON^: 

SAMCBI.  T.  AHMSTROIJtt   AND   CBOCKER   &    BKEWSTER, 
HEW  YORK:    JOHN  P.   HAVEN. 

1822. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  not  my  intention  to  add  to  a  volume,  al- 
ready perhaps  too  bulky,  by  here  enlarging  on 
any  of  those  topics  which  the  subject  of  biogra- 
phy in  general,  or  the  contents  of  the  present 
work  in  particular,  might  suggest.  All  that  I 
propose  is,  briefly  to  advert  to  a  feAV  points 
which  may  seem  to  require  notice. 

The  narrative,  which  I  now  present  to  the 
world,  will  no  doubt  produce  upon  different 
classes  of  readers  very  different  impressions. 
Possibly  it  may  carry  a  degree  of  offence  to  the 
feelings  of  some,  to  contemplate  the  very  hum- 
ble scenes  in  which  one,  who  has  since  been  re- 
garded with  much  veneration,  was  conversant 
throughout  the  former  years  of  his  life.  This 
however  is  a  case  in  which,  could  the  sentence 
be  divested  of  the  pride,  I  fear,  inherent  in  it,  we 
might  be  tempted  to  apply  the  words — 

Quantum  generi  demas,  virtutibus  addis.* 

But  it  is  more  becoming  to  say,  as  my  father  was 
accustomed  to  do — without  at  all  wishing  to  dis- 

•  To  depress  my  rank  is  to  exalt  my  character. 


IV  PREFACE. 


parage  external  distinctions  where  they  existed 
— that  in  all  these  respects  he  was  a  7nan  of  no 
pretensions.  Nor  can  any  Christian,  appreciat- 
ing his  other  quah'fications,  consistently  regard  him 
the  less  on  that  account. 

Others  may  view,  not  without  jealousy,  a  per- 
son who,  by  his  own  shewing,  was  once  "far  oiF" 
from  God  and  from  goodness,  represented  as  em- 
inently "brought  nigh;"  distinguished  by  the  di- 
vine blessino^,  and  by  great  usefulness  in  the 
church  of  Christ.  The  real  and  well  informed 
Christian,  however,  will  regard  the  mighty 
change  with  far  other  feelings;  and  to  all  de- 
scriptions of  persons  his  family  and  friends  would 
say,  If  we  "glory"  in  our  revered  relative,  it  is 
not  in  what  he  was  by  nature,  but  in  what  he 
became  by  divine  grace:  or,  to  express  the  senti- 
ment in  terms  which  would  have  been  still  more 
agreeable  to  his  own  principles  and  feelings,  We 
"glorify  God  in  him." 

Some  may  perhaps  object  to  the  full  disclosure 
that  is  made  of  those  circumstances  of  his  history 
and  character,  which  always  humbled  him  in  his 
own  sight,  and  which  may  tend  to  abase  him  in 
the  view  of  worldly  or  pharisaical  persons. 
There  remained  however  not  much  of  this  na- 
ture to  be  added  to  the  confessions  of  "The 
Force  of  Truth:"  his  supplimental  narrative,  in- 
cluded in  this  volume,  was  all  written  in  the 
same  unreserved  style:  and  it  appeared  to  me 
that  it  would  be  unworthy  of  his  biographer, 
as  it  would  certainly  have  been  contrary  to  his 
own  wishes,  to  attempt  any  suppression  of  what 
neither  could  nor  needed  to  be  concealed. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  more  than  possible  that  the  publication 
of  so  detailed  a  storj,  concerning  a  clergyman  of 
humble  station,  may  appear  to  many  a  proceed- 
ino  altogether  calling  for — perhaps  scarcely  ad- 
mitting of — apology.  Some  notice  of  this  objec- 
tion will  be  found  in  an  early  part  of  the  work 
itself.  I  shall  only  here  add,  that  I  could  not 
but  remember  that  I  was  called  to  give  to  the 
public  an  account  of  a  person,  on  whose  works 
— of  plain  didactic  theology — and  those  charged 
at  the  lowest  price  at  which  they  could  be  af- 
forded— that  public  had  not  thought  it  too  much 
to  expend  more  than  two  hundred  thousand 
POUNDS,  during  the  author's  own  life-time. 

On  the  part  of  many  who  bore  a  high  regard 
for  my  father's  character,  some  impatience  has 
been  expressed  for  the  appearance  of  the  pres- 
ent work.  I  trust  however  it  will  now  be  seen 
that  time  has  not  been  lost  in  bringing  it  forward. 
Indeed  I  cannot  but  fear  that  I  may  incur  the 
charge,  rather  of  premature  publication  than  of 
unnecessary  delay. 

The  work  itself  will  sufficiently  explain  the 
nature  of  the  materials  from  which  it  has  been 
composed.  I  would  only  therefore  observe,  that, 
of  all  the  letters  which  are  introduced  into  it, 
there  is  not  one  of  which  any  copy  had  been 
preserved  by  the  writer.  Their  preservation 
has  depended  on  the  persons  to  whom  they  were 
addressed,  and  it  appears  to  have  been  in  great 
part  accidental. 

The  letters  will,  I  trust,  be  judged  a  highly- 
valuable  part  of  the  volume:  and,  as  will  appear 
to  the  reader,  there  arc  many  more  in  reserve, 


VI  PREFACE. 


from  which  a  further  selection  may  be  given  to 
the  pubhc,  if  it  should  be  desired.  With  this 
view  I  would  still  earnestly  invite  those  friends 
who  possess  letters  of  my  father's,  to  communi- 
cate to  me,  through  the  medium  of  the  book- 
seller,^ either  the  originals,  or  authenticated 
copies  of  such  parts  as  may  not  be  mixed  up 
with  private  affairs.  To  those  who  have  al- 
ready complied  with  this  request,  I  beg  leave 
here  to  return  my  sincere  acknowledgments. 

I  find  that  it  may  not  be  superfluous  to  insert 
a  caution  with  respect  to  any  new  publication 
bearing  my  father's  name.  Whatever  is  not  ex- 
pressly sanctioned  by  his  family,  must  be  consid- 
ered as  appearing  contrary  to  their  wishes. 

May  6,  1822. 

*  Mr.  Armstrong,  Boston. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I.    Including  the  first  sixteen  years   op  his  life. 

A.   D.  -PAGE. 

Mr,  Scott's  own  memoir  of  his  life,         -            -  -           12 

Plan  of  the  present  work,               ...  \\y^ 

1747.    His  birth  and  early   education,            -                 -  -           14 

His  eldest  brother,        -                -               •               -  15 

1757  •\ 

to     ?.  At  school,  at  Scorton,  in  Yorkshire,        -           -  -          16 

1762.3 

A  peculiarity  in  his  early  turn  of  mind,          -                -  17 

Remarks  on  schools,              -                -                -  -           19 

1762.   Short    apprenticeship    to  a  surgeon,  at  Alford,         -  ib. 

Remarkable  incident  during  his  apprenticeship,  -          20 

Reflections,          -             -                -                -                -  21 
Extracts  from  the  'Force  of  Truth,'  relative  to  this  period,        22 

Employment   in    the  grazing  business,  with  his  father,  25 

CHAPTER  H.    From  his  apprenticeship  to  his  ordination. 

1763  ;^ 

to     V.  Hardships  from  hi»   sixteenth  to  his  twenty-sixth  year.  26 

1772. J 

Some  account  of  other  members  of  his  family,          -  28 

His  attempts  to  obtain  orders,              -                -  -          31 

1772.  His  ordination  by  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  (Sept.  20th.)  54 
He  accepts  the  curacies  of  Sioke  Goldington,  and   Weston 

Underwood,  Bucks,                      .                -                -  35 

Reflections  on  his  ordination,                  -                -  -          37 

Extiacts  from  the  'Force  of  Truth*.'           -                -  38 

Apology  for  the   preceding  narrative,                -  -          40 

for   Mr.  S.'s  censures  of  himself.                  *  41 

An   incident,             -               -                -                -  -           42 

His  chai-acter  as  displayed  in  letters  of  this  period,  43 

CHAPTER  in.     From  his  ordination    to  his  marriage. 

1772.  Settlement  at  Stoke,  -  -  .  .44 
Family  of  George  Wrighte,  Esq.  of  Gayhurst,              -  ib. 

1773.  Entrance  at  Glare  Hall,  Cambridge,  -  -  45 
His  studies,  -  *  -  .  ib. 
His  parishes,  -  -  -  -  -48 
Attention  to  clerical  duties,  -  -  -  49 
Death  of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Caborn,  -  -  -  51 
Rev.  John  Newton,  curate  of  OIney,  -  -  62 
Extracts  from  the    'Force  of  Truth.*                -  -      53,54 

1774.  His  marriage,  (Dec.  5th.)  .  .  -  56 
His  finances,  -  -  -  -  -  57 
His  family  worship,  then  and  in  later  life,                -  58 


VIU  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IV.    The  great  change  i:s  his  religious  views, 

1775.   Removal  to    the  curacy  of  Ravenslone,              -                -  63 

^^^j,'  i  Birth  of  his    two  eldest  children,              -               -  64 

1775.  Deathof  his  sister  Mrs.  Gibbons,  -  .  -  ib. 
Great  change  in  his  religious  views,  -  -  66 
Important  letters  relative  to  this  subject,            -                -  67 

1776.  He  devotes  himself  entirely  to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  78 
His  sentiments  on  study  and  learning,  -  I  79 
Doctrinal  views  at  the  close  of  1776,  -  -  80 
Extemporary  preaching.           -           -               .               -  84 

CHAPTER  V.    Period  at  Westojv  Uxverwoob,  till  the  publica- 
Tiojf  of  the  'Force  of  Truth,' 

1777.  Removal  to  Weston  Underwood,  -  -  -  84 
Death  of  his  father  and  naother,  -  -  8i,  85 
Renewal  of  intercourse  with  Mr.  Newton,  -  -  86 
Practice  of  medicine  among  the  poor,  -  -87 
Progress  of  his  religious  inquiries,  -  »  -  88 
Ministerial   faithfulness — Bart.   Higgius,  Esq.             -  90 

1778.  Playing  at  cards,                     -                -                -                -  ib. 
i775.  The  theatre,                     -                -                -                -  92 

1778.  Interview  with  a  clergyman,  -  -  -  93 
The  viear  of  Ravenstone,             -               -                -              .    ^^' 

j^gQ*  ^  Birth  of  two  sons— Death  of  a   son  and  daughter,          -  94 

1779.  Publication  of  TAe  i^orce  o/Tm^A.»            -                -  95 

CHAPTER  VI.      Letters   belonging  to  the  period   of    the  pre- 
ceding chapter. 

1779.  Letters  on  numerous  deaths  in    his  family,  particularly  his 

infant  son,         -                -                -                -                -  96 

1780.  On  the  death  of  his  daughter,            .            -                .  gS 
1778,  ?0»  the  impression  produced  on   his  relations   by  his  change 
1779.5     ^^  views,            -                -                -                 -                -  100 

Tendernessof  his  affections,          -                 -                -  103 

^^'     7  Letters  to   a  relation  by  marriage,  pressing   the    great  du 
1*"81  J     ties  of  religion,  .... 


06 


CHAPTER  VII.    From  the  first  proposal  of  the  cuHAct  of  Olnet, 

TO  TliE  Ci.oSE  Oi^  HIS  MINISTRY  THtllE. 

1780.  Proposal  of  the  cuiac)  of  Olney,  -  -  109 
Changes  there  on  Mr,  Newton's  removal,  -  110—115 
Small  pox  at  Ohiey  and  Ravenstone,  -  -  110 
Goal  fever  at  Stoke,  -  -  -  -  113 
liemaikable    case,            -                 -                 -                 -  114 

1781.  Removal  to  Ohiey,  -  -  -  -  115 
Week-day  It cunes,  -  -  -  -  116 
Lady  Austen — Cou  per,  the  poet,  -  -  117 — 119 
Question  of  itiTiuL  bajLisia,  -  -  119 
lrre;j;u!ar  uiiiiislrt^liouSj  ...  -  122 
Exiract  on  jlin(-rant  prcac'ing,  -  -  i'^S 
Kev.  Dr.  Carey,    of    berarnpore,        -                 -  -         125 

1776.   Dissenters  ai  Northampton,            ...  126 
1"S;?    Severe    illness  in  bhiopshire— Letter  from  Rev.  J.  Mavor.      127 

I '85  \  '■^"'^^"^"^J^^^'*^  Sermon— Discourse  on  liepentance.  128 


CONTENTS.  IX 
CHAPTER  VIII.    Correspondence  duriitg  the    period  or    the 

PRECEDING  CHAPTER. 

Parish  of  Olney,        -            -                -               -  -        129 
1779  ■) 

to     J. Letters  of  Rev.  J.  Newton,         -                -  -                130 
178'J.J 

Leicester                -                 -                 -                -  131— J  34 

1781.    Situation  at  Olney,          -               -                -  -                 137 

178'2.    Happy  state  of  his  mind,         .               -                •  -        139 

1783.  Treatment  ol  relations  not  religious,  -  -  141 
1783  "\ 

to     >•  Letters  to  the  Rev.  J.   Mayor,           -                -  142 — 150 
1785.3 

Antinomianism,               •                -                -  -                 145 
Letters  to  the  Rev.  G.  More.  —  His  religious  views,     146 — 14S 

CHAPTER  IX.    From  the  close  of  his  ministrt  at  Olney,  to 

THE  COMMENCEMENT  OF  UlS   COMMENTARY. 

Situation   at  Olney,                -               -               -  -        162 

Charge   of  scolding  in   the  pulpit,             -  -        153 — 167 

Ministerial    discouragement,                 .                 -  -         153 

1785.  Situation  at  the  Lock  proposed,  *  •  -  154 
On  giving  and  rect-iving  advice,  -  -  -  155 
Removal  to  London,  -  -  .  157 
The  Lock,                -                 -                 -                 -  -         158 

1790.  Lectureships  in  Biead  Street  and  Lothbury,  -               159 

His  Sunday  lahors,                  -                •                •  -         I6I 

Finances,            -             -                -                -  -      159—163 

Charge  of  Arminianism,        -                -                -  -         164 

1786.  Sermon  on  Election  and  Final  Perseverance.  -  ib. 
Society  in  London,  .  -  -  165 — 170 
Trials' at  the  Lock,  -  -  -  -  166 
Usefulness  in    the    Hospital,                 -               -  -        167 

1787.  Pamphlet  on  the  fatal  consequences  of  Female  Prostitution^  168 
liistiiuiion  of  tlie  Lock  Asylum,             -                -  -          ib. 

1 78  f>,  ?  Visits   to    Buckinghamshire,  and   Sermon  on    Growth    in 

17S-.3      Grace,            -             -                -                -  -                 170 

1786.  Correspondence  during  this  period,  -  -  171 
With  his  sisters — Funeral  Sermon  for  Dr.  Coiiyers,  -  172 
With  the  Rev.  l)r  Ryhnd,  -  -  -  173 
With  a  late  parishioner  in  Buckinghamshii'e,         -  -         178 

1787.  With  a  friend  in  Wales,  on  Welsh  BibUs,        -  -                181 

CHAPTER  X.      His   commextart   on  the    scRiPTtrnES— death    op 

MIIS,  SCOTT. 

1787.  The  work  proposed  and  undeiiaken,                    -  -         184 

1788.  Fiinbarrassmeat  an<l  failure  of  the  proprietor,  -  185 
1792  Losses  of  the  author,  -  -  -  187 — 194 
1800 -^  y 

to     ^Improvements  of  the  workintwonew  editions,  -         188 
1811.J 

Copy-right  disposed  of  to  the  present  proprietors,  -             ib. 

Jgjg;?  Suit  in  Chancery  -  -  -  189-199 
1788  -^ 

to     {.First  publication  of  the  work,             -              -  -       199 
1792.3 


X  >  CONTENTS. 

Letters  relative  to  it,                   -                -               -  192 

1791.  Discourse  on  the  Death  of  John  Thornton^  Esq.  -  ib. 
Subsequent  e'litions  of  <he  Commentary,  -  195 — 198 
Its   progress   in     America,         .                -                -         ISj^—^ZiH 

1790.  Death  oV  Mrs.  Scott               ....  203 

Mr.   Scott's  second  marriage,                      -                -  '204 

Letters,                   -                ...               -  2U5 

CHAPTER  XI.     Additional  pakticuiahs  from  the  time  of  fix- 

ISUING  ins  COMMEXTAnY  TO  TUE    EVE  OF  HIS   KEMOVAL  FROM    XGNDOJf. 

Publications — 

1792.  On    Civil  Government  and    the  Ditties  of  Subjects,  2(>7 

1793.  The  Rights  of  God,  -  -  -  ib. 
1796.       Ans-wer  to  Paine' s  Jlge  of  Reason,        -                -        207—212 

J^yj' ?  Letters  to  Dr.  Ryland— Political  Sentiments,             -  208 

1793.  Dr.  Carey,  the  B;^ptist  Missionary,  -  -  -  213 
Further  Publicatior.s — 

l^Oi  S    Essays  on    the  most  important  Subjects  in   Religion.  212 

\\W\i   J^Totes  on  Bunyan*8  Pilgrim,                 -               -  213 

1796.  Volume  of  Sermons,           -               -               -               -  ib. 

1797.  Warrant  and  JVature  of  Faith,  -  -  »^' 
1802.  Four  Sermons,  -  -  -  -  ib. 
1798  to  18"3.     ".ectures  connected  with   the  state  of  the  times.  ib. 

1798.  Observations  on  the  signs  and  duties  of  the  times,  214 
1802.  Se-.-mnn  at  the  close  of  the  Lectures,  -  -  Jb. 
1793  to  1795.  Fast  Sermons,  ...  ib. 
17«j8.  Thanksgiving  Herman,  -  -  -  ib. 
1801.  Sermon  before  the  Church  Missionary  Society,  -  ib. 
1800.   Origin  of  that  Society,                 -                -                 -  ib. 

Commemoration  of  Mr.  Scott,  at  the  anniversary  in  1821.  215 

Works  projected,  but  never  executed,                  -                -  216 

1796.  Voyages  between  London  and   Margate,          -            -  217 

CHAPTEH  XII.  Letters  belongtivg  to  the  period  of  the  die- 
ceding   CHAPTER. 

17H,  1795.     Letters  to  his  friends  in  Norlhumberiand.            -  219 

1795,1796.     Letters  to  his  son  at  college,               -                -  222 

Letters  on  companies  and  studies,          -            -                -  ib. 

—  on  joitiii>g  religious  societies  in  college,           -  2-23 

on  the  study  of  divine  truth,                     -                 -  225 

on   the  love   of  God,          -                 -                 -  2-27 

to  a    lady   on 'Hart's  Hymns,'                -                -  229 

on  habits,  and  the  empio)  merit  of  time,          .  231 

1797. CO   the    Itev.     Henry    Venn,                     -                 -  232 

to   VI rs.  Webster  on  the  death  of  her  daughters,  233 

on  Mr.  Wilberforce's 'Practical  View,'               -  234 

■■       —  on  the  ministry,  and   qualifications  for  it.               -  235 

1798. on  academical    distinctions,              -                 -  237 

•— — —  on  education,  ...  2SS 
on  his  own  religious  sentiments,                       -  239 

1801. on    his  views  duri.ig  a  very  dangerous  illness,  ib. 

Observations  on  the  last  letter,          "    •               -               -  243 


CONTENTS.  XI 
CHAPTER  XIII.    From:  his  accepting  the  i.tviifg  oy  astos  to  thb 

FINAL  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS   COMMENTARY. 

Concluding  transactions    at   the  Lock,                -  -        245 

1801.  The  Living  of  Aston  Sanford,            -             -                -  246 

Determination  to  quit  the  Lock,             _                -  -         247 

Erection  of  a  parsonage  house  at  Aston,        -            -  ib. 

Elizabeth  Moulder — filial  duty  and  charity  to  the   poor  re- 
munerated,                 ....  248 

Review  of  his  own  conduct  at  the  Lock,          -  -        250 

18-3.  Removal    to  Aston,            .             -                -                -  251 

Conclusion  of  his  own  Narrative,                   .                 -  ib  . 

1806  to  1811.     Visits  to  Hull,  York,  Leeds,                    -  -         25^ 

1809  to  1813.     to  Bristol,  and  to   Portsmouth,            -  253 

1813. to  Cambridge,        -                -                -                -  ib. 

Publications — 

1803.      Funeral  Sermon  for  the  Rev.    J.  JK'etoell,           -  254 

18  4.       Sermon  before   the  Lo^.don  JUissionain/  Society.  -        ib. 

1808.      Funeral  Sermon  Jor  the  Rev.    T.  Pentt/cross,        -  ib. 

1810.  Sermon  on  the  Death  oj  the  Missionary,  Barneth,  ib. 
181  ».       Sermon  for  the  Je^os   Societtf,             -                -  -        ib. 

1811.  Address  to  Missionaries  proceeding-  to  .Africa,  255 

1812.  Sermon  for  the  London  Female  Penitentiary,  -  ib. 
18H.  Remarks  on  the  Refutation  of  Calvinism,  -  ib. 
18i'5  to  1808.     His  collected   Works,               -                -  -        ib. 

1807  to  1814.    Tuiiioii  of  Missionaries,                   -                -  ib. 

Study  of  Arabic,                     -                -                -  -        256 

1813.  His  views  with  respect  to  the  instruction  of  Missionaries,  257 
His  zeal  for  religious  and  benevolent  Institutions,  -  259 
Ertects  of  his  ministry  at  Aston,  -  •  260 
Chapelry   of  Gawcott,           .                -                -  -        261 

CHAPTER   XIV,    Letters    belonging  to  the  period  of  the  pre- 
ceding CHAPTER. 

I.  On  the  work  of  the  ministry,                    -                -  2G2 

II.  On    provision   for    families,    and  education  of  children, 
particularly  those  of  n«inisters,                -                 -  268 

III.  On  the  death  of  children  and  near  friends,                -  271 

IV.  Miscellaneous,  ....        279 

CHAPTER  XV.     From  the  final  disposal  of  his  commentary  tilt, 

HIS      LAST    ILLNESS. 

1813.  Unexpected  difficulty  in  his  finances,  -  -  281 
Exti  aordinary   relief,                       ...  283 

1814.  Work  on  the  question  between  Jetvs  aiid  Christians,  287 
Sermon  on  the  Peace  -  'The  ^uive  Trade,  -  289 
Death  of  his  sister,  Mrs.  liurgess,  -  •  290 
of  Henry  Thornton,  Esq.                      -                 -  292 

lilS.  Sermon  on  the  death  of  Lady  ^iiry  Fitzgerald,  -         St94 

ln<lex  and  Concordance  to  his  Bible,             -                 -  295 

1815  to  1817.     Letters  on  Ecclesiastical  Establishments.  -         296 

1815.  On  fluctuations  in  a  congiej^aiion,  -  -  ib. 
Second    Edition   of  his  'Remarks.*                   -  .         298 

1816.  Trials. — On  temptation,  -  -  .  299 
On  concern  for  spiritual  welfare. of  children,  -  -  30  > 
On  the  death  of  an  infant  grandchild,  -  -  302 
On  cultivHiing  cheerfulness,  -  -  .  304 
Letters  to  his  nister.  Mr.s.    Webster,             -                 -  3'!6 

1817.  Histnry  oJ  the  Sy.iod  of  Dort,  -  -  -  ^''8 
Sermon    on    the   death  ofthr.    f^rincess    Charlotte,  -        308 

1818.  Preparation  of  a  stereotype  edition  of  his  Bible,          -  3U9 


Xll  CONTENTS, 

Letters  on  submission  to  God,  -  ,  -  310 

His  state  at  this  period,  ...  312 

On  Dr.  Chalmer's  farewell  Address,  -  -  313 

Occurrences  in  a  visit  to  Aston,         -  -  -  314 

Last  letter  to  Mrs.   Webster,  -  -  -316 

1819.    Lett<rlohis    youngest  son,  ...  317 

On  the  recent   »  cclesiastical  acts  and  proceedings;  -  319 

Death   of  his  late   wife's  sister,  -  -  321 

1820. of  King   George    III.  -  -  -  ib. 

of    Mr.    Scott's  brother,  -  -  ib. 

of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Webster,  -  -  -  322 

His  state  in  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1820,  -  323 

Last  letter  to  the  Kev.   T     W  ebsier,  -  -  3'25 

On  the  exertions  for  the  spiritual  improvement  of  seamen.  326 

On  Crudt  n"s  Concordance,  _  .  -  327 

On  his  own  Index  and  Concordance,  -  -  ib. 

1821.    Lasl  letter  to  Kev.   Dr.    Ryland  -  -  328 

— — —  to  his  eldest  son,  .  -  -  329 

to  Vh-.  Burgess  on  the  death  of  a  daughter,  330 

.         to  his      friend    in    Northumbeiland,  -  ib. 

1818.   Lette  s  to  a  niece  after  the  death  of  her  molhir,  -  332 

1819. to  a  Clergyman  on  |>rivate  religious  meetings,  -  335 

on  prayer  to  the  Holy  Spirit,        -  337 

1821.  Last  letter  to  Kev.  J.  Mayor.  ...  339 

CHAPTBR  XVL      His    last  ihness  aitd  dkath. 
Intro(iuctory  observations  from  the  Rev.   D.    Wilson's  Fun- 
eral sermons,              -                 .                -                -  342 
March  16  to  April.     Extracts  of  letters  written  from  Aston  dur- 
ing his  illness,              -                .                -                -  344 
His  death,               -                -                -                -                -  354 
His    funeral,                      ....  359- 
Impressions   left  on    the  minds  of  the  family,        -           -  360 
On  the  occasional  depression    and    gloom    experienced   by- 
Mr     Scott,                 -                -                -                .  362 
Memorandums  made  during  his  illness,                 -                -  366 
His  feai'S  which  were  never  realized,            -                -  383 

CHAPTER   XVII.     His  chahacteh— habits,  sextiments  on  edu- 
cation. 

His  character  as  delineated   by  Mr.    W  ilson,  -  385 

Additional  ohserv  tiotis,  ...  396 

On  his  intellectual  endowments,  -  .  396 

On  his  spirit  and  temper — particularly  deadiiess  to  the  world,  398 

Onhishabii^  ....  404 

Letter  from  John   Pearson,  Ksq.  .  -  -  4'  7 

Letter  from.  William  Wilberibrce,  Esq.         -  -  409 

Mr.  Scott's  Sentiments  on  Educat  on,  -  -  412 

CHAPTER  XVIII     His  works — his   theoiogt.— conclusion. 

I.  The  Force    of  Truth, and  the  (commentary,              -  421 
Principles  of  interpretiition  adopted  in  the  latter  work,  422 

II.  Theological   Treatises,  ...  4-26 

III.  Occasional  sermons,  ...  432 

IV.  Works  against  infidelity  and  disaffection,  -  434 

V.  Other  controversial  works,  -  -  -  435 
His  Theology,  ....  441 
Conclusion,                  .                ■                -                -  444 

Memoirof  his  eldest  daughter,  ...  451 


LIFE 

OF    THE 


CHAPTER  I. 

INCLUDING   THE   FIRST    SIXTEEN    YEARS    OF   HIS    LIFE. 

The  public  are  already  apprised,  that  my  honored  father 
left  behind  him  a  written  memoir  of  his  own  life,  brought 
down  to  the  year  1812.  The  first  sentence  of  this  manu- 
script will  explain,  at  once,  his  reason  for  so  doing,  and  the 
nature  of  the  composition.  "As  there  can  be  Httie  douht," 
he  says,  "that,  after  my  decease,  something  in  the  way  of 
memoir,  or  narrative,  will  be  published  concerning  me,  to 
prevent  misinformation,  and  to  supply  a  few  authentic  ma- 
terials, I  purpose,  in  the  following  sheets,  to  state  such 
facts  as  seem  of  sufficient  importance,-  leaving  it,  in  general, 
to  others  to  make  their  observations  upon  them." 

Hence  it  would  seem,  that  not  so  much  to  write  for  the 
public  eye,  as  to  furnish  "authentic  materials"  to  those  who 
might  be  induced  to  do  so,  was  the  object  which  he  pro- 
posed to  himself  Accordingly  I  confess,  that,  on  my  first 
inspection  of  the  narrative,  it  appeared  to  me,  though  in 
all  parts  gratifying  to  the  writer's  immediate  friends,  yet  in 
many  instances  more  minute  and  familiar  than  might  be 
suitable  foF  a  work,  to  be  submitted  to  the  world  at  large. 
But,  on  more  deliberately  considering  the  subject,  and  re* 
fleeting  on  what  the  pubhc  have,  in  other  instances,  not 
only  tolerated,  but  approved,  1  have  so  far  altered  my  judg- 
ment, as  to  determine  to  keep  back  very  little  indeed  of 
vfhdiX  niy  father  has  written;  and,  ia  committing  it  to  the 
2 


H  EARLY  LIFE.  [Chap.  !. 

press,  to  subject  it  only  to  that  verbal,  or  otherwise  slight 
correction,  which  an  unrevised  composition  naturally  re- 
quires. 

It  further  appears,  from  the  sentence  which  has  been 
recited,  that,  contenting  himself  with  recording  leading 
ficts,  the  writer  left  it  to  others  to  make  the  proper  re^ 
flections  upon  them. 

On  the  whole,  therefore,  in  compliance  with  what  would, 
I  hope,  have  obtained  his  own  sanction,  and  what,  I  feel 
some  confidence,  will  meet  the  wishes  of  the  religious  pub- 
lic, I  shall  give  the  bulk  of  my  father's  manuscript  in  his 
own  words;  interweave  with  it  pretty  copious  selections 
from  his  correspondence,  illustrative  of  its  contents;  offer 
such  reflections  as  the  several  occasions  may  seem  to  de- 
mand; and,  after  we  shall  have  lost  the  help  of  that  orig- 
inal document,  detail  the  history  of  the  remaining  period  of 
his  life,  as  much  upon  the  same  plan  as  the  means  in  my 
power  shall  enable  me  to  do.  1  would  endeavor  every 
where  to  keep  in  view  the  great  object  for  which  he  lived, 
and  to  which,  on  his  dying  bed,  more  entirely,  if  possible, 
than  before,  he  approved  of  having  devoted  his  life;  and 
would  humbly  desire,  that  the  present  work  may  still  con- 
duce to  the  same  design: — that  here,  as  well  as  in  the 
writings  more  exclusively  his  own,  he  may  "yet  speak"  to 
the  glory  of  God,  and  to  the  highest  good  of  mankind. 

My  father  thus  records  the  time  and  place  of  his  birth. 
"I  was  born  on  the  fourth  of  February,  1746-7,  answering, 
since  the  change  of  the  style,  and  the  beginning  of  another 
century,  to  February  16,  1747.  A  small  farm-house  at 
Bray  toft,  in  Lincolnshire,  was  the  place  of  my  birth. 
Braytoft  is  five  miles  from  Spilsby,  and  about  six  from 
Skegness, — where  a  well-known  bathing  place  has  since 
"been  built;  but  where,  in  my  remembrance,  only  one  soli- 
tary public  house  existed,  on  the  sea-shore. 

"My  father,  John  Scott,  was  a  grazier,  a  man  of  a  small 
and  feeble  body,  but  of  uncommon  energy  of  mind,  and 
vigor  of  intellect;  by  which  he  surmounted,  in  no  common 
degree,  the  almost  total  want  of  education.  His  cir- 
cumstances were  very  narrow,  and  for  many  years  he  strug- 
gled with  urgent  difliculties.  But  he  rose  above  them;  and, 
though  never  affluent,  his  credit  was  supported,  and  he  lived 
in  more  comfortable  circumstances  to  the  age  of  seventy-six 
years.    He  had  thirteen  children,  ten  of  whom  lived  to  ma^ 


1747—1763.]  EARLY  LIFE.  15 

turity:  and  my  eldest  brother  was  twenty-three  years  older 
than  my  youngest  sister. 

"Concerning  my  father's  family  and  ancestors,  I  know 
scarcely  any  thing.  My  mother's  maiden  name  wasWayet, 
and  she  was  descended  of  a  family  well  known  and  re- 
spected, for  a  long  time  back,  at  Boston.  From  her  method 
of  ruling  and  teaching  her  large  family,  when  very  young, 
I  derived  many  of  my  best  maxims  concerning  the  education 
of  my  own  children. 

'•Having,  principally  by  her,  been  taught  to  read  fluent- 
ly, and  to  spell  accurately,  1  learned  the  first  elements  of 
Latin  at  Burgh,  two  miles  off,  at  a  school  to  which,  for  a 
while,  I  went  as  a  day-scholar.  But  at  eight  years  of  age  I 
was  sent  to  Bennington,  a  village  about  four  miles  north  of 
Bosion,  where  my  father  had  a  grazing  farm,  (on  which  my 
eluar  brother  and  sister  rvdsiJed,  with  my  father's  sister,) 
that  I  might  attend  a  school  in  the  parish,  kept  by  a  clergy- 
man. Here  1  continued  about  two  years;  and,  in  addition 
to  writing,  and  the  first  rudiments  of  arithmetic,  I  learned 
a  little  Latin  at  my  master's  desire,  who  thought  he  saw  in 
me  a  turn  for  that  kind  of  learning.  He  had,  as  I  recollect, 
no  other  Latin  scholar. — Exclusive  of  some  instances  of  my 
early  proficiency  in  several  kinds  of  vice,  and  the  severe 
corrections  to  which  this  exposed  me,  I  remember  little  of 
these  two  years,  except  a  preservation  from  drowning,  in 
a  RituatioQ  into  which  i  had  rushed  in  defiance  of  warning. 
My  escape  was  considered  as  wonderful,  for  none  of  the 
spectators  was  able  to  give  me  any  aid. 

'•Towards  the  close  of  these  years  my  eldest  brother 
died  on  hoard  a  man  of  war,  I  think  at  Portsmouth.  My 
father,  amidst  his  difficulties,  greatly  desired  to  have  a  son 
educated  for  one  of  the  learned  professions;  and  his  eldest 
son,  shewing  a  talent  for  learning,  was  sent  to  school,  at 
Scorton,  in  Yorkshire,  (of  which  place  more  will  be  spoken 
hereafter,)  and,  when  he  had  acquired  a  competent  stock  of 
Latin  and  Greek,  was  bound  apprentice  to  a  surgeon  and 
apothecary  at  Burgh,  His  master  dying  during  the  term 
of  his  apprenticeship,  left  him  his  indentures,  and,  I  believe, 
a  small  legacy.  He  then  went  to  Lynn,  in  Norfolk,  where 
he  enjoyed  far  greater  advantages  for  acquiring  profes- 
sional knowledge;  and,  having  attended  the  hospitals  in 
London  for  some  time,  he  was  induced,  on  the  breaking 
out  of  war  with  France,  to  enter  the  navy  as  surgeon's  mate, 
determined  to  push  his  fortune  in  that  line.     His  advance 


16  EARLY  LIFE.  [Chap.  I 

from  the  lowest  rank  to  that  next  to  a  surgeon,  to  whichj  if 
he  had  lived,  he  would  certainly  have  been  very  soon  pro- 
moted, was  rapid;  and  the  most  sanguine  expectations  were 
formed.  But  a  vessel  of  war  arriving  from  abroad,  with  a 
malignant  disease  among  the  crew,  he,  being,  as  it  always 
appeared,  a  stranger  to  fear,  and  enthusiastically  eager  in 
the  pursuit  of  professional  knowledge,  requested  to  be  one 
of  those  who  were  sent  on  board  of  her.  There  he  soon 
caught  the  disease,  which  terminated  at  once  his  prospects 
and  his  life,  when  he  was  about  twenty-four  years  of  age. 

"My  fiither  felt  this  event  as,  in  every  way,  a  most  heavy 
affliction.  He  determined,  however,  if  possible^  to  have  a 
son  in  the  medical  profession;  and,  as  I  was  thought  of  the 
proper  age,  and  seemed  capable  of  readily  learning  Latin,  I 
was  selected.  From  this  time  my  attention  was  almost  en- 
tirely directed  to  that  language;  and,  at  different  places,  I 
got  a  superficial  knowledge  of  several  books  generally  read 
at  schools:  which  gave  the  appearance  of  far  greater  pro- 
ficiency than  1  had  actually  made. 

"At  ten  years  of  a^e  1  was  sent  to  Scorton,  where  my 
brother  had  been  before  me;  and  there  I  remained  five 
years,  without  returning  home,  or  seeing  any  relation  or 
acquaintance. — Scorton  is  a  hamlet  of  the  parish  of  Bolton, 
where  the  celebrated  Henry  Jenkins,  who  lived  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty-nine  years,  lies  buried;  and  there  is  a  monu- 
mental inscription  for  him  in  the  parish  church.  This  was 
Cmc  litinared  and  forty  miles  from  Braytoft;  five  miles  from 
Richmond,  and  two  from  Catterick,  in  Yorkshire;  the  river 
Swale  running  between.  There  were  then  several  turn- 
pike roads  in  the  neighborhood,  and  one  through  the  village, 
but  I  do  not  remember  that  I  ever  saw  or  heard  of  a  stage 
coach! — The  whole  expence  of  boarding  and  clothing 
amounted  to  14/.  a  year;  two  guineas  were  paid  for  teach- 
ing, books  being  found;  there  were  some  extra-charges  for 
writing,  arithmetic,  and  French;  and  some  expences  for 
medical  assistance:  but  I  have  often  heard  my  father  men- 
tion, that  I  cost  him  17/.  a  year,  for  five  years.  I  think  he 
must  have  underrated  the  sum,  but  I  am  fully  satisfied  that 
1^0/.  more  than  covered  all  the  charges  of  the  five  years; 
and  this  was  all  the  cost  of  my  education.  Yet  I  wanted  for 
nothing.  1  had  plenty  of  wholesome  food,  and,  though  my 
clothing  was  rather  coarse,  I  was  as  tenderly  taken  care  of 
when  sick,  (which  was  frequently  the  case,)  by  the  widow, 
who  kept  the  boarding  house,  and  her  daughter,  as  I  could 


1747-^1763.]  EARLY  LIFE.  17 

have  been  at  home. — The  effect,  however,  of  such  long^ 
separations  from  parents,  brothers,  and  sisters,  and  other 
near  relations,  is  far  from  favorable  to  the  forming  of  the 
moral  and  social  character,  in  future  Hfe. 

"The  school  at  Scorton  is,  I  believe,  well  endowed:  and 
it  was  at  that  time  of  considerable  note.  During  the  whole 
of  my  continuance  there,  there  were  above  eighty  scholars; 
several  from  remote  places;  and  a  few  of  superior  station 
in  society,  whose  names  I  have  since  met  with  as  occupy- 
ing rather  conspicuous  situations.  The  Rev.  John  Noble 
TV  as  head-master.  He  had  been,  in  his  day,  indisputably  an 
able  teacher  of  the  learned  languages:  but  at  this  time  he 
was  old  and  lethargic;  and,  though  still  assiduous,  was  most 
grossly  imposed  upon  by  the  boys,  and  by  no  one  more 
than  myself 

"When  I  arrived  at  Scorton,  I  was  asked  what  Latin  books 
I  had  read;  and  my  answer  induced  the  usher  to  overrate 
my  proficiency,  and  to  place  me  in  a  class  much  beyond  my 
superficial  attainments.     This,  however,  stimulated  me  to 
close  application;  and  it  was  not  very  long  before  I  over- 
took my  class-mates,  and  with  ease  accompanied  them.  Had 
I  then  been  again  pushed  forward,  I  might  have  been  ex- 
cited to  persevering  diligence:  but,  as  I  could  appear  with 
tolerable  credit  without  much  application;  partly  by  actual 
proficiency,  and  partly  by  imposing  on  Mr.  Noble,  under 
whose  care  I  now  came;  my  love  of  play,  and  my  scarcity 
of  money  for  self-indulgent  expences,  induced  me  to  divide 
a  great  proportion  of  my  time  between  diversion  and  help- 
ing other  boys  in  their  exercises,  for  a  very  scanty  remuner- 
ation, which  I  lost  in  gaming,  or  squandered  in  gratifying 
m_y  appetite. — Still,  however,  I  made  considerable  progress, 
and  should  have  been  at  the  head  of  the  school,  had  1  con- 
tinued in  it  another  year.     But  one  thing  is  remarkable, 
considering  what  has  since  taken  place,  that,  while  I  could 
translate  Latin  into  English,  or  English  into  Latin,  perhaps 
more  reaJi.y  and  correctly  than  any  other  boy  in  the  school, 
I  never  could  compose  themes,     i  absolutely  seamed  to 
have  no  ideas^  when  set  to  work  of  this  kind,  either  then 
or  for  some  years  afterwards;  and  was  even  greatly  at  a 
loss  to  write  a  common  letter. — As  for  verses,  1  never  wrote 
any  except  wonse/)se-verses,  of  one  kind  or  other;  which  has 
perhaps  been  the  case  also  of  many  more  prohfic  versifiers. 
God  bad  not  made  me  a  poet,  and  I  am  very  thankful  that 
1  never  attempted  to  make  myself  one." 


i«  EARLY  LIFE.  [Chap.  I. 

In  addition  to  what  my  father  has  here  stated,  I  think  it 
sufficiently  curious  to  be  inserted  in  the  history  of  one  who 
lived  to  compose  so  many  large  volumes,  that  I  have  often 
hear<l  him  remark,  that,  in  his  early  days,  he  looked  upon 
few  things  with  so  much  surprise,  as  upon  great  books:  he 
felt  utterly  at  a  loss  to  conceive,  how  they  had  ever  been 
produced.  For  the  encouragement,  also,  of  industry  and 
perseverance,  1  would  venture  to  express  an  opinion,  which 
facts,  I  think,  have  suggested  to  me, — that  to  lind  composi- 
tion a  difficult  task  is  rather  a  promising  symptom  in  young 
persons,  than  the  contrary.  Precocity  in  writing  is  very 
often  no  other  than  the  art  of  writing  "without  ideas:" 
while  they,  who  cannot  write  till  they  have  thought,  are 
more  likely,  in  the  event,  to  store  their  compositions  with 
valuable  matter. 

"During  these  five  years,"  my  father  proceeds,  "I  ex- 
perienced, as  I  suppose  most  3'oung  persons  do,  several  re- 
markable preservations  in  perilous  circumstances,  generally 
such  as  my  violent  and  eager  spirit  pushed  me  into;  and  I 
also  recovered  from  some  very  dangerous  fevers.  These 
things  ought  to  be  remembered  by  me  with  lively  gratitude, 
(especially  as  1  then  scarcely  ever  thought  of  God;)  but 
they  are  not  so  peculiar  as  to  deserve  public  notice.  Per- 
haps one  exception  may  be  admitted.  Sitting  by  the  fire- 
side reading,  I  affronted,  by  no  great  offence,  a  school- 
fellow of  a»  violent  passions  as  myself:  when,  without  my 
being  at  all  aware  of  his  design,  he  seized  a  large  poker, 
and  aimed  a  blow  at  my  head,  which  must  have  proved  fa- 
tal, had  not  its  force  been  broken  by  an  intervening  object. 
As  it  was,  it  inflicted  a  severe  wound,  which  left  a  bald 
place  on  the  top  of  my  head  ever  after. 

"My  own  conduct,  at  this  period,  was  as  immoral  as  want 
©f  money,  pride,  and  fear  of  temporal  consequences,  and  a 
natural  bashfulness,  would  admit  it  to  be;  except  that  in 
one  thing  I  retained  a  sort  of  habit  of  my  family,  and  never 
learned  to  swear  or  to  take  the  name  of  God  in  vain,  unless 
sometimes  when  provoked  to  violent  passion.  There  was  no 
fear  of  God  before  my  eyes;  no  restraint  from  the  thought 
of  any  relations  watching  over  and  reproving  my  conduct; 
no  want  of  most  vile  examples  and  prompters;  and  little 
fear  of  detection  by  the  master.  In  one  instance,  however, 
this  latter  confidence  failed  me,  and  I  was  put  to  shame 
in  the  face  of  the  whole  school  for  robbing  an  orchard;  and 
my  disgrace  was  proclaimed  in  the  neighborhood:  which 


1747—1763.]  EARLY  LIFE.  19 

I  mention,  to  shew  that  the  master,  though  liable  to  gross 
imposition,  decidedly  opposed  immorahty  whenever  it  was 
detected. 

*'I  cannot  quit  the  present  subject,  without  observing  the 
dire  evils  attending  large  public  schools,  where  the  boys  are, 
for  a  very  great  part  of  their  time,  from  under  the  .eye  of  the 
master,  however  vigilant;  and  at  a  distance  from  parents  and 
refations,  and  all  whose  presence  would  impose  restraint  upon 
them.  Thus  they  are,  in  great  measure,  left  to  devise  and 
practice  wickedness  together:  they  embolden  one  another 
to  break  through  the  defence  of  natural  modesty:  they  teach 
their  juniors  the  vicious  practices  which  they  have  learned 
from  their  seniors:  they  bestow  pains  to  corrupt  each  oth- 
er's principles:  they  often  procure  the  vilest  pubUcations: 
and  by  the  help  of  indexes,  and  other  means,  they  some- 
times become  better  acquainted  with  the  most  indecent  pas- 
sages of  the  classic  authors,  than  with  their  daily  lessons. 
The  most  clever,  daring,  and  wicked  of  the  elder  boys  is 
the  hero  for  the  time  being,  whom  all,  that  are  near  enough 
to  him,  envy,  imitate,  and  emulate.  When  he  leaves  the 
school  his  most  successful  copyist  takes  his  place;  and  the 
same  scene  is  re-acted  again  and  again.  Those  who  have 
money  purchase  the  company  of  such  as  are  witty  and  en- 
tertaining: and  not  unfrequently  they  contract  unsuspected 
habits  of  intemperance  and  licentiousness. — Something  may 
indeed  be  done,  in  many  cases,  to  counteract  thesfe  evils:  but 
they  are  ia  a  great  degree,  inseparable  from  the  system, 
and  are  very  inadequately  counterbalanced  by  superior  ad- 
vantages for  the  acquisition  of  classical  learning. 

"On  my  return  from  Scorton,  in  June,  1762,  I  spent 
■some  weeks  in  visiting  relations  and  acquaintance:  during 
which  time  it  was  a  matter  of  deliberation  whether  I  should 
not  return  to  Scorton  for  another  year.  This  I  earnestly 
desired;  for  I  had  now  no  books  for  study  or  amusement. 
Some  of  my  school-fellows  also  were  about  to  enter  at  the 
University;  and  they  excited  in  me  the  desire  of  doing  the 
same: — which  I  fondly  hoped,  after  another  year,  might  be 
accomplished;  and  which  I  vastly  preferred  to  an  appren- 
ticeship. What,  however,  was  deemed  the  more  frugal 
plan,  and  what  most  accorded  to  my  father's  previous  in- 
tention, was  adopted:  and,  in  September  of  that  year,  I 
was  bound  apprentice  to  a  surgeon  and  apothecary  at  Al- 
ford,  about  eight  miles  north  of  Braytoft.  The  person, 
with  whom  I  was  placed,  was  considered  as  v^ry  skilful, 


20  EARLY   LIFE,  [Chap.  L 

and  had  extensive  practice;  andihe  situation  was  thought 
very  advantageous:  but  he  was  in  all  respects  unprincipled, 
and,  I  am  of  opinion,  was  an  infidel. 

"In  this  place  my  habit  of  attending  church,  on  the  Lord's 
day,  was  first  interrupted:  for,  on  whatever  other  days  I 
might  have  little  to  do,  I  was  almost  uniformly  employed 
on  Sundays,  from  morning  till  evening.* 

"Here,  however,  I  might  have  continued,  and  have  ac- 
quired professional  knowledge;  and,  I  doubt  not,  should 
have  met  with  adequate  encouragement,  in  that  respect, 
had  I  behaved  well,  and  rendered  myself  useful.  But  my 
master  was  a  widower,  and  was  seldom  at  home  except 
when  business  required  it:  so  that  my  leisure  time  was 
spent  with  servants,  and  the  most  improper  companions. 
As  to  the  things  which  I  was  required  to  do,  no  fault  was 
found:  but,  in  other  respects,  I  behaved  very  ill,  and  gave 
my  master  just  cause  of  complaint,  and,  at  least,  a  plausible 
reason  for  dismissing  me.  This  he  accordingly  did;  and  at 
the  end  of  two  months,  i  returned  home  in  deep  disgrace. — 
Thus  my  father's  favorite  plan  was  disappointed,  through 
my  misconduct;  a  family,  respected  for  morality,  was  dis- 
honored; and  1  was  left  to  encounter  a  degree  of  displeas- 
ure, and  mortifications  resulting  from  it,  which  were  hard 
enough  in  themselves  to  be  endured,  and  to  which  my  un- 
humbled  heart  was  by  no  means  properly  disposed  to  sub- 
mit. 

"Yet  I  must,  notwithstanding,  regard  this  short  season  of 
my  apprenticeship  as  among  the  choicest  mercies  of  my  fife. 
Not  that  I  learned  any  wisdom,  or  self-government,  or  sub- 
mission, by  my  deep  and  lasting  disgrace  and  anguish:  but 
for  two  reasons.  The  first  and  most  important  was  this:  My 
master,  though  himself,  not  only  irreligious,  but  in  many 
respects  immoral,  first  excited  in  my  mind  a  serious  convic- 
tion of  sin  committed  against  God.  Remonstrating  with 
me  on  one  instance  of  my  misconduct,  he  observed,  that  I 
ought  to  recollect,  it  was  not  only  displeasing  to  him,  but 
wicked  in  the  sight  of  God.  This  remark  produced  a  new 
sensation  in  my  soul,  which  no  subsequent  efforts  could  de- 

•  Medical  men  are  too  apt  to  consider  their  professional  engagement* 
as  excusing  thein  from  attendance  on  public  worship  How  much  may 
be  done,  by  proper  arrangement,  to  avoid  this  may  be  judged  froni  the 
fact,  that  fhe  extensive  practice  of  the  late  Mr.  tley,  of  Leeds,  seldom 
prevented  his  resorting  to  church  twice  on  the  Sunday. — See  his  life 
J9y  John  Pearson,  Esq. 


1747—1763.]  '  EARLY  LIFE.  i\ 

stroy;  and  proved,  I  am  fully  satisfied,  as  far  as  any  thing 
proceeding  from  man  was  instrumental  to  it,  the  primary 
cause  of  my  subsequent  conversion! — With  this  circum- 
stance, therefore,  my  narrative  in  the  'Force  of  Truth' 
commences." 

Here,  in  transcribing  my  father's  manuscript,  I  find  it 
impossible  not  to  pause,  for  the  purpose  of  avowing  the 
impression  which  this  simple,  undisguised  narrative  makes 
upon  my  mind,  and  in  which,  I  persuade  myself,  I  shall 
have  the  sympathy  of  all  those  who  duly  appreciate  what 
the  writer  afterwards  became.  The  excellent  Mr.  Cecil, 
in  his  usual  striking  manner,  remarks,  '^The  history  of  a 
man's  own  life  is,  to  himself,  the  most  interesting  history 
in  the  world,  next  to  that  of  the  Scriptures."  He  adds, 
"None  can  either  understand  or  feel  the  book  of  his  own 
life  like  himself"  This  is  undoubtedly  true:  yet  the  his- 
tory of  the  human  mind,  in  perhaps  every  instance  where 
we  can  fafrly  come  at  it,  is  and  must  be  deejply  interesting 
to  all  pious  and  thinking  persons. — The  reflections  sug- 
gested, by  the  present  narrative,  at  the  period  at  which  we 
have  arrived,  may  be  not  at  all  uncommon;  yet  they  are 
both  aflfecting  and  important.  What  sad  marks  of  deprav- 
ity may  be  traced  even  in  the  earliest  periods  of  Hie,  by 
those  who  honestly  observe  themselves,  and  judge  by  the 
holy  law  of  God! — How  far  off  from  himself  does  Almighty 
God  often  find  even  his  most  chosen  instruments  of  good, 
when  he  first  begins  to  form  them  for  his  service! — And  by 
what  remarkable,  what  apparently  trivial  and  most  unex- 
pected means  does  he  frequently  work,  to  reclaim  them 
from  their  wanderings!  Who  could  hare  expected  an  un- 
godly, and  even  infidel  man,  to  use  such  words  in  remon- 
strating with  an  undutiful  apprentice?  and  much  more  who 
could  ever  have  anticipated  the  eifects  that  were  to  follow 
from  them,  when  so  used? — I  subjoin  another  remark  of  the 
same  dear  friend  of  my  father's  just  quoted:  ''The  Chris- 
tian will  look  back  throughout  eternity  with  interest  and 
delight  on  the  steps  and  means  of  his  conversion.  'My  fa- 
ther said  this!  My  mother  told  me  that!  Such  an  event  was 
sanctified  to  me.  In  such  a  place  God  visited  my  soul.* 
These  recollections  will  never  grow  dull  and  wearisome." 
. — Finally,  does  any  young  person,  contemplating  the  early 
aberrations  of  a  Newton,  a  Cecil,  a  Buchanan,  or  a  Scott; 
and  knowing  what  good  men  they  afterwards  proved;  feel 
tempted  to  tlatter  himself  that  he  shall  live  to  repent,  and 


22  EARLY  LIFE.  [Chap,  h 

thus  "have  peace,"  though  he  should  now  gratify  his  pas- 
sions, and  walk  in  the  imagination  of  his  own  heart?*  Let 
him  tremble  to  indulge  the  forlorn  and  presumptuous  hope. 
Let  him  remember,  that,  while  the  few  who  are  reclaimed 
from  3?outhful  depravity  to  piety,  happiness,  and  usefulness, 
are  recorded,  the  great  multitude  who  sink  into  ruin,  from 
which  there  is  no  return,  pass  unnoticed.  Their's  is  the 
ordinary,  the  natural  course.  They  form  the  ?f//e,  the 
others  the  exception. — Manasseh,  the  wicked  son  of  Heze- 
kiah,  was  indeed  borne  with  during  a  reign  of  fifty -live 
years,  and,  probably  in  the  latter  part  of  it,  brought  to  re- 
pentance and  to  God:  but  his  son  Amon,  perhaps  presum- 
ing on  his  father's  example,  was  cut  off  at  the  end  of  two 
years,  and,  for  aught  that  appears,  died  in  his  sins. 

The  account  given  of  the  period  referred  to,  in  the 
opening  of  the  "Force  of  Truth,"  may  be  properly  intro- 
duced in  this  place.  It  is  as  follows:  "Though  I  was  not 
educated  in  what  is  commonly  considered  as  ignorance  of 
God  and  religion,  yet,  till  the  sixteenth  year  of  my  age,  I 
do  not  remember  that  I  ever  was  under  any  serious  convic- 
tion of  being  a  sinner,  in  danger  of  wrath,  or  in  need  of 
mercy;  fior  did  1  ever  during  this  part  of  my  hfe,  that  I 
recollect,  offer  one  hearty  prayer  to  God  in  secret.  Being 
alienated  from  God  through  the  ignorance  that  was  in  me,  I 
Hved  without  him  in  the  world;  and  as  utterly  neglected 
to  pay  hini  any  voluntary  service,  as  if  I  had  been  an  athe- 
ist in  principle. 

"But  about  my  sixteenth  year  I  began  to  see  that  I  was 
a  sinner.  I  was  indeed  a  leper  in  every  part,  there  being 
'no  health  in  me:'  but,  out  of  many  external  indications  of 
inward  depravity,  conscience  discovered  and  reproached 
me  with  one  especially;  and  I  was,  for  the  first  time,  dis- 
quieted with  apprehensions  of  the  wrath  of  an  offended 
God.  My  attendance  at  the  Lord's  table  was  expected 
about  the  same  time;  and,  though  I  was  very  ignorant  of  the 
meaning  and  end  of  that  sacred  ordinance,  yet  this  circum- 
stance, uniting  with  the  accusations  of  my  conscience, 
brought  an  awe  upon  my  spirits,  and  interrupted  my  before- 
undisturbed  course  of  sin. 

"Being,  however,  an  utter  stranger  to  the  depravity  and 

helplessness  of  fallen  nature,  1   had  no  doubt  that  1  could 

amend  my  life  whenever  I  pleased.     Previously  therefore 

to  communicating,  I   set  about  an  unwiUing  reformation; 

*  See  Deut.  xxix,  18—21. 


1747—1763.]  EARLY  LIFE.  23 

and,  procuring  a  form  of  prayer,  I  attempted  to  pay  my 
secret  addresses  to  the  Majesty  of  heaven.  Having  in  this 
manner  silenced  my  conscience,  I  partook  of  the  ordinance. 
I  held  my  resolutions  also,  and  continued  my  devotions, 
such  as  they  were,  for  a  short  time:  but  they  were  a  wea- 
riness and  a  task  to  me;  and,  temptations  soon  returning,  I 
relapsed;  so  that  my  prayer-book  was  thrown  aside,  and 
no  more  thought  of,  till  my  conscience  was  alarmed  by  the 
next  warning  given  for  the  celebration  of  the  Lord's  sup- 
per. Then  the  same  ground  was  gone  over  again,  and^ 
with  the  same  issue.  My  goodness  was  like  the  morning 
due^  that  passeth  away:  and,  loving  sin,  and  disrelishing  re- 
ligious duties  as  much  as  ever,  I  returned^  as  the  sow  that  is 
washed  to  her  wallowing  in  the  mire. 
'  "With  little  variation,  this  was  my  course  of  life  for 
nine  years:  but  in  that  time  I  had  such  experience  of  my 
own  weakness,  and  of  the  superior  force  of  temptation,  that 
I  secretly  concluded  reformation  in  my  case  to  be  imprac- 
ticable. Can  the  Ethiopian  clmnge  his  skin^  or  the  leopard 
its  spots?  I  was  experimentally  convinced  that  I  was  equal- 
ly unable,  with  the  feeble  barrier  of  resolutions  and  en- 
deavors, to  stem  the  torrent  of  my  impetuous  inclinations, 
when  swelled  by  welcome,  suitable,  and  powerful  tempta- 
tions. And,  being  ignorant  that  God  had  reserved  this  to 
himself  as  his  own  work;  and  had  engaged  to  do  it  for  the 
poor  sinner,  who,  feeling  his  own  insufficiency,  is  heartily 
desirous  to  have  it  done  by  him;  I  stifled  my  convictions  as 
well  as  I  could,  and  put  off  my  repentance  to  a  more  con* 
venient  season.^^ 

We  now  return  to  the  narrative. 

"The  other  benefit  derived  from  my  short  space  of  ap- 
prenticeship was  this:  I  was  dismissed  for  gross  misconduct, 
before  the  whole  premium  agreed  on  had  been  paid:  my 
father  resolutely  refused  to  pay  the  remainder;  and  my 
master  as  decidedly  refused  to  give  up  my  indentures  till  it 
was  paid:  and  no  compromise  was  attempted.  The  claim 
of  my  master  was,  1  apprehend,  legal:  but  his  retaining 
my  indentures,  after  I  was  finally  dismissed,  was  ah  illegal 
method  of  enforcing  it,  for  which,  in  the  opinion  of  rather 
high  authority,  ample  damages  might  have  been  recovered 
at  the  close  of  the  term.  The  consequence  was,  that,  being 
nominally  this  person's  apprentice,  I  could  not  be  placed 
out  with  another:  and  thus  I  was  finally  excluded  from  that 
profession  for  which  I  was  designed,  and  in  which  probably 


24  EARLY  LIFE.  [Chap.  L 

I  should  have  succeeded  as  to  this  world;  hut,  in  that  case, 
the  whole  history  of  my  life  would  have  been  changed." 

My  father  here  subjoins  in  a  note:  "My  master  lived 
till  after  1  had  published  the  'Force  of  Truth,'  and,  so  far 
from  desiring  damages  from '  him,  1  wished  and  purposed 
to  express  my  gratitude  to  him,  as  the  instrument  of  God  to 
me  for  good,  by  sending  him  a  book  or  two,  accompanied  by 
a  letter:  but  I  procrastinated  till  it  was  too  late,  which  I 
have  ever  since  regretted.  Second  thoughts,  in  such  cases, 
are  seldom  best." 

It  may  be  added,  that  he  feelingly  regretted  this  omis- 
sion, even  on  his  dying  bed. — "Whatsoever  thy  hand  find- 
eth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might" — promptly,  as  well  as  de- 
cidedly. 

But  while  my  father  properly  acknowledges,  with  grati- 
tude, the  good  of  which  providence  made  these  events  the 
occasion  to  him,  it  may  still  fairly  be  remarked,  that  the 
measure  he  met  with  from  man  appears  to  have  been  hard. 
To  be  thus  summarily  dismissed  from  his  apprenticeship  at 
the  end  of  two  months,  on  the  first  discovery,  as  it  appears, 
of  an  offence,  even  though  a  high  one, — and  that  by  a  man 
who  set  him  the  example  of  immoraUty  in  his  own  conduct, 
and  deprived  him  of  the  opportunity  of  receiving  religious 
instruction  and  good  impressions,  on  the  sabbath,  was  cer- 
tainly severe  treatment.  His  future  apparent  interests  in 
life  were  also  sacrificed,  or  unwarrantably  disregarded,  amid 
the  contentions  of  two  high-spirited  men.  And  the  degra- 
dation and  hardships,  to  which,  as  it  will  be  seen,  he  was 
subjected  through  many  succeeding  years,  appear  to  have 
been  dictated  rather  by  the  mortified  pride  of  his  family, 
than  by  any  just  principle.  Certainly,  though  providence 
turned  it  all  for  good,  and  rendered  it  subservient  to  the 
accomplishment  of  great  events,  yet  fhe  conduct  of  his  fa- 
ther cvmnot  be  recommended  as  a  model  for  imitation  under 
similar  circumstances.  I  would  further,  however,  remark, 
that,  under  the  whole  even  of  this  severe  discipline,  he 
was  to  be  congratulated,  or  even  envied,  in  comparison  with 
such  young  persons  dfe,  in  cases  of  similar  misconduct,  either 
escape  detection,  or  are,  by  the  false  tenderness  of  friends, 
screened  from  all  punishment. 

What  follows,  considered  as  describing  that  which  proba- 
bly laid  the  foundation  of  diseases  under  which^  he  suffered 
to  his  dying  day,  illustrates  the  remark,  often  made,  con- 
cerning the  severity  with  which  a  righteous  God  frequently 


1747—1763.]  Early  life.  2^ 

punishes  sin,  even  where  its  eternal  consequences  are  mer- 
cifully prevented. 

"Immediately  on  my  return  home,  1  was  set  to  do,  as  well 
as  I  could,  the  most  laborious  and  dirty  parts  of  the  work  be^ 
longing  to  a  grazier.  On  this  I  entered  at  the  beginning  of 
winter:  and,  as  much  of  my  father's  farm  consisted  of  low 
land,  which  was  often  flooded,  I  was  introduced  to  scenes  of 
hardship,  and  exposed  to  many  dangers  from  wet  and  cold, 
for  which  my  previous  habits  had  not  prepared  me.  In 
consequence  I  was  frequently  ill,  and  at  length  suflfered 
such  repeated  and  obstinate  maladies,  (especially  the  ague, 
and  effects  following  from  it,)  that  my  life  was  more  than 
once  despaired  of.  Yet  a  kind  of  indignant,  proud  self-re- 
venge kept  me  from  complaining  of  hardship;  though  of  re- 
proach, and  even  of  reproof,  I  was  impatient  to  the  greatest 
degree  of  irascibility. 

"I  had  now  many  serious  thoughts  of  God,  and  of  eterni- 
ty, and  every  illness  produced  a  sort  of  paroxysm  of  reli- 
gion; in  which,  having  prayed  for  pardon  in  an  earnest,  but 
ignorant  manner,  I  felt  satisfied  thai  I  should  be  happy  if  I 
died;  though,  as  soon  as  I  was  restored  to  health,  all  my 
religion  vanished  as  the  morning  cloudl" 

Another  paragraph  from  the  'Force  of  Truth'  may  fur- 
ther illustrate  what  is  here  briefly  stated. — "Being  of  a  rc» 
fleeting  turn,  and  much  alone,  aware  of  the  uncertainty  of 
life,  I  was  disquieted  with  continual  apprehension",  that 
the  more  convenient  season''''  for  repentrince,  to  which  I 
looked  forward,  "would  never  arrive;  especially  as,  through 
an  unconfirmed  state  of  health,  I  had  many  warnings,  and 
near  prospects  of  death  and  eternity.  For  a  long  time  I 
entertained  no  doubt  that  impenitent  sinners  would  be  mis- 
erable for  ever  in  hell:  and,  at  some  seasons,  such  amazing 
reflections  upon^  this  awfui  subject  forced  themi^elves  into 
my  mind,  that  I  was  overpowered  by  them,  and  my  fears 
became  intolerable.  At  such  times  my  extemporary  cries 
for  mercy  were  so  earnest  and  persevering,  that  I  was 
scarcely  able  to  give  over;  though  at  others,  I  lived  with- 
out prayer  of  any  sort.  Yet,  in  my  darkest  hours,  though 
my  conscience  was  awakened  to  discover  more  and  more 
sinfulness,  there  remained  a  hope  that  I  should  one  day  re- 
pent and  turn  unto  God.  If  this  hope  were  from  myself^  it 
was  a  horrid  presumption;  but  the  event  makes  me  wiUmg 
to  acknowledge  a  persuasion  that  it  was  from  the  Lord:  for, 
had  it  not  be^n  for  this  hope,  I  should  probably  have  givea 
3 


26  FROM   HIS    APPRENTICESHIP     [Chap.  11. 

way  to  temptations,  which  frequently  assaulted  me,  to  put 
an  end  to  my  own  life,  in  proud  discontent  with  my  lot  in 
this  world,  and  in  mad  despair  about  another." 


CHAPTER   II. 

FROM    HIS   APPKENTICESHIP    TO   HIS    ORDINATION. 

'1'he  narrative  now  proceeds:  "After  a  few  unsuccessful  at- 
tempts, my  father  gave  up  all  thoughts  of  placing  me  out  in 
any  other  way:  and  for  above  nine  years  1  was  nearly  as 
entire  a  drudge  as  any  servant  or  laborer  in  his  employ; 
and  almost  as  little  known  beyond  the  circle  of  immediate 
neighbors.  My  occupation  was  generally  about  the  cattle, 
and  particularly,  in  the  spring  season,  it  consisted  in  follow- 
ing  the  ewes  great  with  young.  In  this  service  I  learned 
liabits  of  hardiness  in  encountering  all  sorts  of  weather, 
(for  the  worse  the  weather  the  more  needful  was  it  that  1 
should  be  with  the  ewes,)  which  have  since  proved  useful  to 
me:  and,  though  I  was  not  kept  from  learning  many  vices, 

1  was  out  of  the  way  of  acquiring  habits  of  ease  and  indul- 
gence, as  I  should  otherwise  probably  have  dene. 

"My  situation,  however,  necessarily  led  me  to  associate 
with  persons  of  the  lowest  station  of  life,  and  wholly  desti- 
tute of  religious  principle — in  all  ranks  the  grand  correc- 
tive, and  in  this  rank  almost  the  sole  restraint  upon  charac-^ 
ter  and  manners.  These  persons  tried  to  please  me  with 
j3atteries,  and  to  inflame  still  more  the  indignancy  of  spirit 
with  which  I  rebelled  against  the  supposed  degradation  that 

2  suffered.  1  was  induced  also,  not  unfrequently,  to  ac- 
company them  in  their  low-lived  riots;  which  further  em- 
bittered the  mind  of  my  father  respecting  me.  Yet  still  I 
not  only  had  seasons  of  remorse,  but,  strange  to  say,  contin- 
ued to  entertain  thoughts  of  the  university,  and  of  the  cler- 
ical profession!  These  and  various  ideas  and  imaginations 
concerning  study,  and  learning,  and  even  the  distinctions  of 
learning,  formed  no  small  part  of  my  waking  dreams,  in 
the  tedious  seasons  of  solitude  which  1  was  condemned 
frequently  to  pass.  Hence,  in  the  winter  evenings,  when 
not  seduced  from  home,  and  at  other  times,  when  I  had  any 
leisure,  I  read  whatever  books  I  could  procure;  and,  1  doubts 
not,  should  have  made  considerable  proficiency,  but  for  two 


1763—1772.]     TO    HIS    ORDINATION.  %? 

impediments.  First,  my  father,  though  himself  remarkably 
fond  of  reading,  and,  for  his  station  in  life,  studious,  yet 
always  considered  my  attachment  to  books,  even  whea^ 
shewn  only  in  my  leisure  hours,  as  wholly  inconsistent  with 
diligence  in  my  business:  so  that  frowns  and  rebukes,  and 
frequent  declarations,  that  he  foresaw  I  should  come  to  be 
a  charge  to  the  parish,  were  my  only  encouragement  in 
these  pursuits; — which  greatly  strengthened  the  temptation 
to  spend  my  leisure  time  from  home,  and  often,  unsuspect- 
ed by  him,  in  low  and  abandoned  company.  Perhaps  I  was 
sometimes  engaged  with  a  book,  when  I  ought  to  have 
been  otherwise  employed:  yet,  after  I  had  left  him,  he  gave 
me  full  credit  both  for  diligence  and  skill  in  my  services. — 
My  other  impediment  was,  that,  having  had  books  found 
for  my  use  at  school,  which,  of  course,  I  did  not  bring  away 
with  me;  1  had  naw  scarcely  any  thing  to  study  relative  to 
the  languages,  and  other  subjects,  on  which  my  heart  was 
set.  A  few  torn  Latin  books  I  had,  and  a  small  imperfect 
dictionary;  but  not  one  Greek  book,  except  an  Eaton  gram- 
mar. 

"The  discontent  which  corroded  my  mind  during  several 
of  these  years,  surpasses  description;  and  it  soured  my  tem- 
per beyond  its  natural  harshness:  thus  rendering  me  a 
great  temptation,  as  well  as  trial,  to  my  father,  and  those 
around  me;  to  whom  I  generally  behaved  very  disrespect- 
fully, not  to  say,  insolently.  After  some  time,  however,  I  be- 
came rather  more  reconciled  to  my  lot;  and  concluded,  that, 
though,  for  my  misconduct  at  Alford,  1  was  treated  more 
harshly  than  others  of  the  family,  I  should  at  length  be 
provided  for  as  a  grazier:  and,  m  consequence,  waking- 
dreams  of  other  pursuits  seemed  to  be  less  vivid  in  my 
mind.  » 

"I  had  only  dn6  surviving  brother,  and  he  was  well  situ- 
ated in  a  farm:  my  fither  was  far  advanced  in  life,  and  not^ 
of  a  strong  constitution:  and  1  supposed,  as  I  believe  most 
of  the  family  did,  that  I  should  succeed  to  his  farm.  But 
at  length  I  discovered,  (for  it  was  not  intended  that  I  should 
know  it,)  that  the  lease  of  this  farm  was  left  by  will  to  my 
brother;  and  that  I  was  merely  to  be  uhder-tenant  to  him 
for  some  marsh  grazing  lands,  which  were  without  a  house, 
and  on  which,  I  knew,  a  family  could  not  be  decently  main- 
tained.— Indeed  it  has  since  been  rendered  indisputably 
certain,  that,  during  the  distresses  of  the  American  war,  no 
person,  so  circumstanced,  could   possibly  have  stood  hi9 


28  FROM    HIS    APPRENTICESHIP     [Chap.  11. 

ground,  and  numbers,  far  better  provided  for  than  I  should 
have  been,  became  daj-laborers  to  the  end  of  Hfe." 

Before  we  proceed  to  the  consequences  of  the  discovery 
thus  made,  it  may  perhaps  not  be  improper  just  to  insert 
here  a  brief  notice  of  such  of  my  father's  family  as  lived 
till  he  himself  became  known  to  the  public,  and  who  will 
be  adverted  to  in  subsequent  parts  of  these  memoirs.  They 
were  four  in  number;  three  sisters,  and  the  brother  above- 
mentioned.  Margaret,  the  wife  of  Mr.  Thomas  Ford,  at- 
torney at  law,  died  in  London  in  the  year  1801;  Bridget, 
his  youngest  sister,  wife  of  Mr.  Francis  Burgess,  a  manu- 
facturer and  alderman  of  Leicester,  died  there  in  1814;  and 
Susannah,  the  widow  of  Mr.  Thomas  Webster,  of  Boston, 
who  was  four  years  older  than  my  father,  died  at  the  house 
of  her  son,  the  vicar  of  Oakington,  near  Cambridge,  in  the 
Month  of  April,  1820.  Mrs.  Webster  will  frequently  be 
mentioned  in  the  following  pages  under  the  description  of 
the  elder^  and  Mrs.  Ford  under  that  of  the  younger  sister. 
The  brother  (WilUam)  was  thirteen  years  older  than  my 
father,  and  died  only  the  year  before  him  (March,  1 820,) 
at  Boston.  In  speaking  of  him  I  should  be  sorry  to  say  any 
thing  painful  to  the  feelings  of  survivors;  but  there  was 
something  so  remarkably  different  in  the  history  of  the  two 
brothers,  that  it  is  hardly  to  be  passed  over  without  notice. 
William  was  a  man  of  powerful  understanding,  strong 
health,  and  comely  person.  The  favorite  of  his  family  and 
of  the  neighborhood;  he  set  out  in  life  with  every  advan- 
tage. His  education  was  indeed  plain,  yet  at  eighty  years 
of  age  he  wrote  on  subjects  connected  with  his  own  line  of 
life,  so  as  to  obtain  much  applause,  and  to  be  styled  in  some 
periodical  publications,  'the  Nestor  of  agriculture.'  Yet, 
by  the  indulgence  of  unsubdued  tempers,  he  involved  him- 
self in  great  vexations  and  troubles;  and  was,  by  various 
means,  at  length  reduced  to  be  dependent  for  subsistence, 
in  great  part,  upon  that  very  younger  brother  who  in  early 
life  had  been  almost  the  outcast  of  his  family,  and  of  whom 
it  had  been  foretold  that  he  would  come  to  be  a  'charge  to 
the  parish;'  but  who,  through  the  happy  influence  of  true 
religion  upon  his  whole  temper  and  conduct,  was  now  liv- 
ing in  credit  and  esteem,  "blessed  himself,  and  a  blessing* 
to  all  around  him.  So  true  is  it,  that  "God  seeth  not  as 
man  seeth. "t  Yet  the  elder  brother  was  by  no  means  re- 
gardless of  religion:  he  took  a  lively  interest  in  it,  and  I 
would  fain  hope  felt  its  power:  but  alas!  he  was  far  from 
*  Geri.  xii,  2.  t  ^  Sam.  xvi,  f. 


1163—1772.]      TO  HIS  ORDINATION.  29 

taking  it  up  in  that  right  manner,  and  applying  it  to  all  the 
duties  of  hte,  as  his  younger  brother  did. 

My  father  was  thus  eventually  the  survivor  of  the  whole 
family,  and  was  for  years  acknowledged  by  them  all  as  their 
common  friend  and  benefactor. — But  we  return  from  this 
digression,  into  which  the  mention  of  his  "only  surviving 
brother,"  on  whom  the  last  will  of  his  father  was  to  render 
him  dependent,  has  led  us.     He  proceeds: 

"On  this  discovery,  I  determined  to  make  some  effort, 
however  desperate,  to  extricate  myself:  and  I  only  waited 
for  an  opportunity  to  declare  my  determination.  Without 
delay,  my  Greek  grammar  was  studied  through  arid  through; 
and  I  made  what  use  i  could  of  my  Latin  books:  my  father, 
in  the  mean  time,  expressing  his  astonishment  at  my  conduct. 

"At  length,  in  April,  1772,  I  avowed  my  intention,  in  al- 
most the  worst  manner  possible.  After  a  long  wet  day  of 
incessant  fatigue,  I  deemed  myself,  and  perhaps  with  justice, 
to  be  causelessly  and  severely  blamed,  and  I  gave  full  vent 
to  my  indignant  passions;  and,  throwing  aside  my  shepherd's 
frock,  declared  my  purpose  no  more  to  resume  it.  That 
night  I  lodged  at  my  brother's,  at  a  little  distance:  but,  in 
the  morning,  I  considered  that  a  large  flock  of  ewes,  in 
yeaning  time,  had  no  one  to  look  after  them,  who  was  com^ 
petent  to  the  task.  I  therefore  returned,  and  did  what  was 
needful;  and  then  set  off  for  Boston,  where  a  clergyman 
resided,  with  whom  I  had  contracted  some  acquaintance,  by 
conversing  with  him  on  common  matters,  when  he  came  to 
do  duty  in  my  brother's  village,  and  took  refreshment  at 
liis  house. 

"To  this  clergyman  I  opened  my  mind  with  hesitation 
and  trepidation:  and  nothing  could  well  exceed  his  aston- 
ishment when  he  'heard  my  purpose  of  attempting  to  obtain 
orders.  He  knew  ms  only  as  a  shepherd,  somewhat  more 
conversible,  perhaps,  than  others  in  that  station,  and  imme^ 
diately  asked,  'Do  you  know  any  thing  of  Latin  and  Greek?' 
1  told  him,  I  had  received  education,  but  that  for  almost  ten 
years  I  had  never  seen  a  Greek  book,  except  the  grammar. 
He  instantly  took  down  a  Greek  Testament,  and  put  it  into 
my  hands;  and  without  difficulty  I  read  several  verses,  giv- 
ing both  the  Latin  and  English  rendering  of  them,  accord- 
ing to  the  custom  of  our  school.  On  this,  having  strongly 
expressed  his  surprise,  he  said,  'Our  visitation  will  be  next 
week;  the  archdeacon,  Dr.  Gwrdon,  will  be  here;  and,  if  you 
will  be  in  the  town,  I  will  mention  you  to  him,  afid  induce 
3* 


30  FROM  HIS   APPRENTICESHIP         [Chap.  11. 

him  if  I  can,  to  send  for  you.'  This  being  settled,  I  returned 
immediately  to  my  father  for  the  intervening"  days;  knowing 
how  much,  at  that  season,  he  wanted  my  help,  for  services 
Vi^hich  he  could  no  longer  perform  himself,  and  was  not  ac- 
customed to  entrust  to  servants." 

It  is  certainly  gratifying,  amid  the  representations  which 
my  father  has  given  of  his  own  temper  and  conduct  at  this 
time,  to  meet  with  these  proofs,  that,  however  irascible,  he 
did  not  retain  resentment,  and  quickly  returned  to  some 
sense  of  filial  duty.  It  may  at  least  gratify  the  reader's  curi- 
osity to  peruse  an  extract  of  a  letter  written  just  at  this  pe- 
riod»  It  is  the  earliest  but  one  that  has  come  into  my  hands. 
It  is  dated  "Boston,  May  17,  1772,"  (less  than  a  month  after 
first  quitting  his  father,)  and  is  addressed  to  his  sisters. 

"As  I  expected,  I  had  some  difficulty  in  reconcihng  my 
friends  here  to  my  intended  scheme.  My  uncle  Jackson, 
as  my  god-father,  reminded  me  of  my  duty  to  my  father. 
My  answer  was,  that  I  found  I  could  not  perform  the  posi- 
tive part,  I  must  therefore  endeavor  to  perform  the  nega- 
tive part:  that,  though  in  my  former  conduct  1  had  too  often 
transgressed,  yet  in  this  particular  my  conscience  acquitted 
me.  My  aunt  urged  that,  if  I  had  not  success,!  could  turn 
my  hand  to  nothing  else.  I  mentioned  a  school,  for  which 
I  think  myself  well  qualified,  being  so  able  to  instruct  my- 
self. However,  after  a  long  and  serious  discourse  on  the 
subject,  I  left  them  both  tolerably  well  satisfied.  My  cousio 
Wayct  has  said  nothing  to  me  on  the  subject.  Mrs.  Wayet 
endeavored  to  rally  me  out  of  it:  but,  I  must  own,  I  thought 
her  arguments  weak.  She  urged  the  ridicule  which  poor 
parsons  meet  with:  but  surely  those  who  ridicule  any  one 
on  account  of  his  poverty,  if  he  behaves  in  a  manner  wor» 
thy  of  his  situation,  are  themselves  persons  whose  opinion 
I  despise. — She  said,  she  would  not  be  of  any  profes- 
sion, unless  at  the  head  of  it:  but  this  can  be  no  rule  for 
general  practice,  as  some  must  be  subordinate. — She  men- 
tioned my  not  being  brought  up  in  a  regular  manner:  but 
it  is  the  end,  not  the  means,  that  is  of  the  greatest  conse- 
quence; and,  if  a  man  be  qualified,  it  matters  not  at  what 
place  he  procured  his  qualifications.  It  sometimes  humbles 
my  vanity  to  hear  them  all  account  of  me,  as  of  one  of  the 
lowest  order  of  the  profession,  not  only  in  point  of  fortune, 
but  also  in  ijther  particulars.  If  I  know  myself,  I  am  not 
deficient  in  abilities,  though  I  am  in  the  art  of  rendering 
ihem  conspicuous;  my  vanity  prompts  me  to  say,  that  I  am 


1763—1772]         TO  HIS  ORDINATiON-  31 

not  without  hopes  of  making  friends  in  this  way  of  life,  as 
1  shall  be  more  conversant  with  men  of  letters,  who  are 
the  companions  I  most  deUght  in,  and  for  whose  company 
I  shall  spare  no  pains  to  qualify  myself.  But  let  my  condi- 
tion in  life  be  what  it  will,  I  will  endeavor  to  suit  myself  to 
it.  Pray  heaven  preserve  me  independent  on  any  other 
for  a  livelihood,  and  I  ask  no  morel  The  happiest  hours  I 
ever  spent  have  been  in  your  company,  and  the  greatest 
reluctance  I  feel  at  this  change  of  my  situation  is,  the  be- 
ing separated  from  a  set  of  sisters,  for  whom  I  have  the 
most  sincere  regard  "  He  resists  "his  heaviness"  by  the 
text,  "Why  art  thou  so  heavy,  O  my  soul?  and  why  art  thou 
so  disquieted  within  me?" 

"At  the  appointed  time,"  be  says  in  his  narrative;  "I  re- 
turned to  Boston,  (where  my  family  was  well  known,)  and 
readily  found  access  to  the  Archdeacon,  who  was  also  exam- 
inmg  chaplain  to  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  Dr.  Green.  Before 
him  1  repeated,  in  another  part  of  the  Greek  Testament, 
what  I  had  done  at  the  clergyman's  house;  and  was  asked 
many  questions,  which  1  answered  without  the  least  dis- 
guise. The  Archdeacon  concluded  the  interview,  by  assur- 
ing me  that  he  would  state  my  case  to  the  Bishop,  and  say- 
ing that  he  thought  it  probable  his  lordship  would  ordain  me. 

"Thus  encouraged,  I  expended  all  the  little  money, 
which  I  could  raise,  on  books;  went  to  live  at  Boston;  and 
applied  diligently  to  study — especially  to  improve  my 
knowledge  of  the  Greek  Testament,  (the  Gospels  in  par- 
ticular,) and  to  recover,  or  rather  to  acquire,  the  ability  of 
composing  in  Latin.  In  English,  1  had  now  for  some  years 
been  ready  in  expressing  my  thoughts,  and  had  even  been, 
in  some  instances,  a  writer  in  newspapers  and  magazines. 
i  daily,  therefore,  wrote  in  Latin,  on  texts  of  scripture,  a 
sort  of  short  sermons,  which  my  friend,  the  clergyman,  re- 
vised; and,  in  return,  I  afforded  him  very  seasonable  and 
welcome  assistance  in  a  grammar-school,  which  he  taught." 
— In  a  aote  it  is  here  observed,  "xMy  ability  of  writing,  and 
the  flow  of  my  ide«s  came  to  me  chiefly  by  corresponding 
with  my  sisters,  on  sentimental  and  other  subjects." — The 
narrative  proceeds: 

"The  religious,  or  rather  irreligious,  state  of  my  mind, 
at  this  period  has  been  shewn  in  the  'Force  of  Truth:'  but 
regard  to  decorum,  in  many  respects,  rendered  my  outward 
conduct  more  correct  than  formerly;  and  I  constantly  at- 
leaded  at  th€  church,  and  the  Lord's  table. 


^2  FROxM  HIS  APPRENTICESHIP         [Chap.  If, 

''Every  circumstance  concurred  with  my  eagerness  of* 
spirit  to  render  it  desirable  that  matters  should  be  brought 
to  a  crisis:  and  those,  whom  alone  I  could  consult,  were  of 
opinion,  that  it  was  as  likely  that  I  should  obtain  ordination 
on  the  ensuing  Trinity-Sunday,  (June  14,)  as  at  a  future 
period.     This  was  not  seven  weeks   from  the  time  of  my 
first  leaving  my  father.     Having  therefore  procured  a  title 
to  a  small  curacy,  (Martin,  near  Horncastle,)  I,  with  great 
labor,  walking  above  fifty  miles  for  the  purpose,  got  my  tes- 
timonials signed,  and  other  things  in  regular  order.     I  had 
learned  from  the  Archdeacon,  that  the  ordination  would  be 
held  in  London;  «nd,  having  sent  my  papers  to  the  Bishop, 
though  I  received  no  answer,  I  went  thither  at  the  appoint- 
ed time.     But  on  my  arrival  I   was  informed,  that,  as  my 
papers  had  not  come  in  time,  and  other  circumstances  were 
Hot  satisfactory,  I  was  not  admitted  a  candidate.     In  fact,  I 
was  most  groundlessly  suspected  of  methodism! — On  this  I 
earnestly  entreated  that  his  lordship  would  allow  me    to 
speak  with  him:  and   he   very    condescendingly   comphed 
with  my  request.     He  asked  me  many  questions  as  to  the 
manner  and  events  of  my  past  life;  my  family,  my  prospects, 
and  my  reasons  for  wishing  to  enter  into  orders:  and   I  an- 
swered all  with  unreserved  sincerity  and  frankness;  which, 
apart  from  rehgion,  1  then  thought,  and  still  think,  the  best 
prudence.     He  however  still  negatived  my  urgent  request 
to  be  admitted    as  a  candidate  at  that  ordination:   but  he 
said,  that,  if  1  would  procure  my  father's  consent,  and  a  letter 
from  any  beneficed  clergyman  in  the  neighborhood,  whom 
he  knew,  probably  he  should  admit  me  at  the  next  ordina- 
tion.    This  answer,  however,  induced  a  kind  of  despair.     I 
was  not  personally  known  to  half  a  dozen  clergymen  of 
the  description  required,  and  my  attempt  was  utterly  rep- 
robated by  every  one  of  them,  as  in  a  high  degree  presump- 
tuous.    1    was  now  in  the   twenty-sixth   year  of  my  age, 
wholl}^  without  the  j»rospect  of  a  decent  subsistence:   yet 
my  father  most  decidedly  set  himself  against  my  design;  and, 
If  his  consent  were  necessary,  there  could  be,  as  1  thought, 
no  hope. — Having,  therefore,  spent  a  short  time  in  London, 
in  viewing  some  of  its  curiosities,  (for  I  had  not  been  there 
before,)  and  in  visiting  some  relations,  in- rather  a  superior 
station;  and,  having  received  from  them  some  inappropri- 
ate counsel,  and,  I  think,  undeserved  rebukes,  with  a  i'ew 
Small  presents,  I  set  out  on  my  journey  home.     I  travelled 
by  a  circuitous  route,  a  great  part  of  the  way  on  foot,  and 
the  rest  in  various  vehicles.    At  length  I  reached  Braytoft, 


176:^—1772.]       TO  HIS  ORDINATION.  33 

after  walking  twenty  miles  in  the  forenoon;  and,  having  din- 
ed, I  put  off  my  clerical  clothes,  resumed  my  shepherd's 
dress,  and  sheared  eleven  large  sheep  in  the  afternoon!" 

The  reader  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  energy 
•f  character  displayed  in  this  simple  narrative,  or  to  be 
amused  with  the  exhibition  of  it,  which  the  finishing  day's 
work  afforded.  Whatever  the  subject  of  this  memoir  did, 
he  "did  it  with  his  might." 

"This,  however,"  he  observes,  "was  my  last  labor  of  the 
kind.  My  attempt  to  obtain  orders  had  been  widely  made 
known  in  the  neighborhood,  even  much  beyond  the  sphere 
of  my  personal  acquaintance;  and  it  had  excited  much  atr 
tention  and  astonishment,  with  no  small  degree  of  ridicule. 
This  raised  the  spirit  of  my  relations;  and  the  sentiment 
expressed  by  my  brother,  was  that  of  the  other  branches 
of  the  family:  4  wish,'  said  he,  'my  brother  had  not  made 
the  attempt:  but  1  cannot  bear  to  have  it  said,  that  one  of 
our  name  undertook  what  he  was  unable  to  accomplish!' 

"Inconsequence  of  this  sensation,  my  brother  and  all 
my  sisters  met  by  appointment  at  my  father's  house;  and, 
with  my  mother,  urged  it  in  the  most  earnest  manner,  as 
his  indispensable  duty,  either  to  consent  to  my  ordination, 
or  to  fix  me  in  a  farm  on  my  own  account.  I  apprehend 
it  was  clearly  foreseen  what  his  concession  would  be,  if  he 
could  be  induced  to  concede  at  all:  and  accordingly,  after 
much  debate,  he  gave  his  consent  in  writing  to  my  enter- 
ing into  orders. 

"Thus  the  difficulty,  which  I  regarded  as  insuperable, 
was,  in  a  most  unexpected  manner,  surmounted;  and,  my 
hopes  reviving,  I  was  prepared  to  struggle  over  other  ob- 
stacles, if  possible.  Despairing  of  obtaining  a  letter  to  the 
Bishop  from  any  of  the  beneficed  clergymen  to  whom,  as 
living  within  a  few  miles,  I  was  in  some  degree  known,  I 
applied  without  delay  to  the  vicar  of  Boston,  Dr.  Calthorp, 
who  was  well  acquainted  with  my  mother  and  her  family, 
though  he  had  seldom,  if  ever,  seen  me,  till  I  met  the 
archdeacon  at  his  house.  He  behaved  in  the  most  candid 
manner;  yet,  as  a  truly  conscientious  man,  (which  I  believe 
he  really  was,)  he  said  justly,  that  he  could  not  sign  my 
testimonial,  or  state  any  thing  concerning  me  from  his  own 
knowledge,  except  for  the  short  time  which  had  passed 
since  I  first  came  to  his  house:  but  that  he  could  give  a  fa- 
vorable account  as  to  that  time;  and,  if  I  could  procure  at- 
testations from  any  respectable  persons,  though  not  clergy- 


34  FROM   HIS  APPRENTICESHIP         [Chap.  II. 

men,  he  would  transmit  them,  with  his  own  letter,  to  the 
bishop. — Thus  encouraged,  I  went  again  to  reside  at  Boston, 
where  I  applied  diligently  to  my  studies:  but  I  was  greatly 
frowned  on  by  many  of  my  relations;  andi  frequently  heard 
the  laugh  of  the  boys,  as  I  walked  about  the  streets  in  a 
brown  coat,  and  with  lank  hair,  pointing  me  out  as,  'the 
parson!'* — If  this  were  a  species  of  persecution,  it  certainly 
was  not  for  Christ'' s  sake^  or  for  righteousness^  sake:  for  the 
account  given  in  the  'Force  of  Truth'  sufficiently  shews, 
that  I  was  estranged  from  both  at  this  time. 

"At  the  ensuing  Michaelmas  ordination,  I  was  admitted  a 
candidate  without  objection,  and  was  examined  at  Buckden, 
by  Dr.  Gordon.  After  examination  on  other  matters,  he  asked 
me  numerous  questions  concerning  the  nature  of  miracles; 
how  real  miracles  might  be  distinguished  from  counterfeit 
ones;  and  how  they  proved  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  in  sup- 
port of  which  they  were  wrought.  This  was,  indeed, 
almost  the  only  theological  topic  which  I  had  studied  with 
any  tolerable  attention.  He,  however,  perceived  that  I  be- 
gan to  be  alarmed,  and  kindly  said,  'You  need  not  be  un- 
easy: I  only  wished  to  try  of  what  you  were  capable:  and 
I  perceive  that  Christianity  has  got  an  able  advocate  in 
you.' — I  could  not  find  myself  at  liberty  wholly  to  suppress 
this  remarkable  attestation,  which,  I  believe,  is  expressed 
in  exactly  the  words  he  used:  but  had  he  known,  either 
my  creed,  and  the  state  of  my  heart,  at  that  time;  or  whith- 
er my  subsequent  inquiries  would  ultimately  lead  me,  I  am 
persuaded  he  would  not  have  spoken  as  he  did:  though  he 
was  a  far  more  reasonable  and  candid  man,  in  respect  of 
those  who  differed  from  him,  even  though  vilified  as  meth- 
odists  and  enthusiasts,  than  is  commonly  met  with." 

From  two  letters  of  my  father's,  addressed  to  his  sisters, 
and  dated  the  one  at  Buckden,  the  day  on  which  he  was 
ordained  deacon,  the  other  at  London,  March  13,  1773,  the 
day  before  he  received  priest's  orders,  it  may  be  collected, 
that  he  passed  both  his  examinations  with  much  credit;  and 
that,  had  the  latter  ordination  taken  place  in  the  country, 
he  was  to  have  had  the  honor  of  preaching  before  the 
bishop  on  the  occasion. 

As  a  specimen  of  his  early  correspondence,  and  a  con- 
firmation of  what  he  has  declared  concerning  his  state  of 
mind  at  the  time,  I  am  induced  to  give  the  former  of  these 

*  "All  clergymen,  at  that  time,  either  wore  wigs,  or  had  their  hair 
dtesse^t" 


1763—1772.]       TO  HIS  ORDINATION.  35 

letters, — premising,  however,  that  it  is  of  a  very  different 
cliaracter  from  any  other  that  will  be  inserted  in  this  work. 
"Buckden,  September  20,  1772. — Dear  Sister, — Success 
is  always  agreeable;  though  there  is  a  success  that  would 
have  been  mortifying;  but  mine  is  of  the  most  agreeable 
sort.  Compliments,  high  compliments  from  both  Dr.  Gor- 
don and  my  fellow  candidates As  I  have  a  little  time  to 

spare,  I  shall  endeavor  to  give  you  a  sketch  of  my  compan- 
ions here.  The  first  I  shall  mention  is  a  Scotchman,  a  man 
of  parts.  To  a  sound  judgment  he  joins  a  most  ready  wit, 
and  an  agreeable  affability.  He  tells  a  story  in  his  Scotch 
dialect  in  the  most  humorous  manner  imaginable.  He  is 
equally  qualified  for  serious  or  literary  conversation;  and  I 
have  contracted  something  of  an  intimacy  with  him.  His 
fault  is,  that  he  is  too  sensible  of  his  own  abilities. — The 
next  is  a  most  solemn  ignoramus;  a  member  of  the  univer- 
sity; who  knows  just  as  much  Latin  as  I  did  when  I  had 
been  two  years  at  Scorton.  He  is  in  deacon's  orders:  so,  in 
solemn  consultation,  we  made  a  theme  for  him;  and,  as  he  is 
a  man  that  bears  a  good  character,  Dr.  G.,  I  believe,  know- 
ingly overlooked  it.  Had  we  not  assisted  him,  it  would 
have  gone  nigh  to  have  killed  him. — The  third  is  a  meth- 
odistical  gentleman.  He  forms  a  very  good  contrast  to  some 
of  the  company;  they  being  too  gay  for  their  business,  he 
so  sanctified  that  a  song,  a  game  at  cards,  or  a  joke,  is  to 
him  a  most  capital  offence.  This  I  could  overlook;  but  his 
opinions  are  not  mine;  and  I  had  a  duel  with  him,  on  my 
first  arrival,  concerning  justification  by  ftuth  alone.  I  be- 
lieve each  claimed  the  palm  of  victory:  I,  however,  had 
the  audience  on  my  side. — A  fourth  is  a  good-natured  harm- 
less person,  no  university  man,  who  is  easily  pleased,  and 
endeavors  to  please  those  about  him:  so  I  think  I  ought  to 
have  placed  him  a  little  higher  in  my  list. — The  next  is  of 
the  same  class,  but  a  less  able  person. — The  remainder  are 
Oxonian  and  Cantabrigian  bucks,  who  know  more  of  the 
wine  and  the  girls  of  their  respective  universities,  and  of 
setting-dogs,  race-horses,  and  guns  in  the  country,  than  of 
Latin  and  Greek,  or  divinity.  The  arch-deacon  sweated 
tvTO  of  them  pretty  well:  but  I  believe  they  must  pass, 
muster.  In  the  examination  I  did  what  I  wish  undone, — I 
assisted  one  of  them  in  his  theme,  both  with  thoughts  and 
Latin,  whom  I  have  since  found  to  be  very  unfit  for  what  he 
is  going  to  undertake:  and,  without  assistance  I  am  certain 
he  would  not  have  succeeded.. ..You  must  excuse  my  vanity: 


36  FROM  HIS  APPRENTICESHIP      [Chap.  II. 

at  the  present  I  cannot  avoid  it. ..You  may  depend  on  the  sin- 
cerity of  my  prayers  and  good  wishes  for  you  all,  and  that  I 
am  your  aftectionate  brother, 

Thomas  Scott." 

I  have  omitted  in  this  letter  an  allusion  to  the  event  which 
he  next  relates  in  his  narrative. 

"On  the  Saturday  evening  before  the  ordination,  the 
secretary*  read  to  me  part  of  a  letter  from  Mr.  (afterwards 
Dr.)  Dowbiggin,  rector  of  Stoke  Goldington  and  Gayhurst, 
near  Newport  Pagneil,  Bucks,  who  had  married  the  Bish- 
op's niece.  He  wanted  a  curate  for  Stoke,  and  for  Weston 
Underwood,  a  perpetual  curacy  held  by  another  person: 
the  whole  salary  50/.  a  year,  with  some  trifling  additions. 
This  the  secretary  proposed  to  me:  the  bishop  being  dis- 
posed to  favor  my  accepting  it,  if  I  had  no  particular  attach- 
ment to  the  parish  from  which  I  had  my  title.  As  curacies 
in  Lincolnshire  were  at  that  time  easily  obtained;  and,  as 
several  clergymen,  by  serving  three  or  more,  had  a  much 
larger  income  than  the  stipend  thus  offered,  I  had  no  pe- 
cuniary inducement  to  accede  to  the  proposal.  But  the 
idea  of  appearing  as  a  clergyman,  in  a  neighborhood  where 
I  had  not  been  known  in  any  other  character,  induced  me 
to  listen  to  it.  I  went  accordingly  from  Buckden  to  Stoke 
Goldington,  and,  having  agreed  with  the  rector,  I  returned 
to  my  relations  in  Lincolnshire. — And  now  congratulations 
from  every  quarter  took  place  of  censure  and  ridicule.  Of 
so  vast  importance  is  success  or  failure  in  fixing  credit  or 
discredit  on  our  undertakings!  Had  I  not  previously  agreed 
with  Mr.  Dowbiggin,  I  should  probably  have  now  been 
induced  to  settle  in  Lincolnshire;  but  consequences  of  great 
importance  were  connected  with  my  removal  into  Bucks." 

On  two  of  the  topics  mentioned  in  this  paragraph,  short 
extracts  may  be  inserted  from  his  letters. 

"April  12,  1773. — The  only  advantage  I  shall  reap  from 
coming  into  Bucks*  is,  that  I  shall  have  the  opportunity  of 
seeing  different  places;  otherwise  I  cannot  help  regarding 
it  as  a  di^^advantageous  step.  Here  are  so  many  expences, 
and  so  little  to  defray  them,  that  I  think  any  of  those  offers 
I  had  in  Lincolnshire  better — beside  the  pleasure  of  being 
among  one's  relations,  which,  however,  your  great  and  dar- 
ing spirits  may  despise  it,  I  deem  a  great  advantage." 

*  Mr.  Hodgson,  who  still  held  the  same  office  when  this  memoir  was 
written. 


17G3— 1772.]         TO   HIS  ORDINATION.  37 

The  other  relates  to  the  motive  which  had  led  him  to  de- 
cide in  favor  of  Buckinghamshire. 

October  23,  1772. — I  thought,  when  I  got  so  far  from 
home,  nobody  would  know  in  what  way  of  hfe  I  had 
been,  but  I  was  mistaken.  By  many  expressions  and  ac- 
tions, which  I  have  made  use  of,  every  one  knows  that  I 
am  well  acquainted  with  the  grazing  business,  and  my  com-- 
pany  is  much  desired  by  the  farmers,  to  discourse  with  me 
01  our  methods  of  proceeding  in  Lincohishire:  but  I  per*- 
ceive  not  that  it  is  any  detriment  to  me.  In  truth  1  am 
very  ill  calculated  to  act  the  hypocrite.  When  I  am  asked 
a  question  which  I  know  how  to  answer,  1  cannot  pretend 
ignorance.  Sincerity  in  words  is  so  natural  to  me,  that  1 
do  not  think  it  any  merit;  ibr  I  can  hardly  help  speaking 
as  I  think,  though  afterwards  I  accuse  myself  of  indiscre- 
tion. Discretion,  in  the  lesser  branches  of  it,  an  ingenuous 
artless  person  can  hardly  practice:  and  I  know  not  whether 
it  be  worth  his  while  to  attempt  it." 

'*The  Force  of  Truth,"  he  now  observes,  ''sufficiently  ex- 
plains the  state  of  my  heart  and  my  conduct,  as  it  must  have 
appeared  in  the  sight  of  God,  in  this  most  solemn  concern 
of  my  ordination;  and  it  suffices  here  to  say,  that,  consider- 
ed in  all  respects,  I  deliberately  judge  this  whole  transaction 
to  have  been  the  most  atrocious  wickedness  of  my  liiie 
But  I  did  not,  at  the  time,  in  any  degree  regard  it  in  this 
light;  nor  did  I,  till  long  after,  feel  any  remorse  of  conscience 
for  my  prevaricating^  if  not  directly  lying  subscriptions  and 
declarations,  and  ail  the  evil  of  rpy  motives  and  actions,  in 
the  whole  concern. — Yet  a  sermon  preached  by  a  youno* 
man,  who  was  ordained  priest  at  the  time,  but  who  never 
appeared  amongst  us,  on  the  office  an<|  duty  of  a  minister, 
attracted  my  attention;  met  my  approbation;  and  1  think, 
on  reflection,  was  of  some  use  to  me.  His  name,  as  I  rec- 
ollect, was  Symmonds:  I  have  since  heard  of  him;  but  know 
nothing  particular  of  his  subsequent  history.  However,  I 
feel  assured,  that  good  sermons,,  on  such  occasions,  concern- 
ing the  ministerial  office  and  duty,  especially  if  preached  hy 
.seniors,  would  produce  very  important  effi^cts  on  youno* 
men,  too  often  thoughtlessly  assuming  a  sacred  character, 
without  having  ever  been  seriously  admonished  o(  their 
duty  and  responsibility." 

Some  passages  from  the   'Force    of  Truth'  may  here, 
^gain,  be  advantageously  placed  beioro  the  reader, — "At 
this  period,"  says  the  author— referring  to  the  idme  when 
4 


38  FROM  HIS  APPRENTICESHIP  [Chap.  II. 

he  lived  at  home  with  his  father,  subsequently  to  his  appren- 
ticeship— "though  I  was  the  slave  of  sin,  yet,  my  con- 
science not  being  pacified,  and  my  principles  not  greatly 
corrupted,  there  seemed  some  hope  concerning  me:  but 
at  length  Satan  took  a  very  effectual  method  of  silencing 
my  convictions,  that  1  might  sleep  securely  in  my  sins: 
and  justly  was  I  given  over  to  a  strong  delusion  to  be- 
lieve a  lie,  when  I  held  the  truth  that  I  did  know  in  un- 
righteousness. 1  met  with  a  Socinian  comment  on  th*i 
Scriptures,  and  greedily  drank  the  poison,  because  it  quiet- 
ed my  fears,  and  flattered  my  abominable  pride.  The 
whole  system  coincided  exactly  with  my  inclinations,  and 
the  state  of  my  mind.  In  reading  this  exposition,  sin  seem- 
ed to  lose  its  native  ugliness,  and  to  appear  a  very  small  and 
tolerable  evil;  man's  imperfect  obedience  seemed  to  shine 
with  an  excellency  almost  divine;  and  God  appeared  so 
entirely  and  necessarily  merciful,  that  he  could  not  make 
any  of  his  creatures  miserable,  without  contradicting  his 
natural  propensity.  These  things  influenced  my  mind  so 
powerfully,  that  I  was  enabled  to  consider  myself,  notwith- 
standing a  few  little  blemishes,  as  upon  the  whole  a  very 
worthy  being.  At  the  same  time  the  mysteries  of  the  Gos- 
pel being  explained  away,  or  brought  down  to  the  level  of 
man's  comprehension,  by  such  proud  and  corrupt,  though 
specious  reasonings;  by  acceding  to  these  sentiments,  1  was, 
in  my  own  opinion,  in  point  of  understanding  and  discern- 
ment, exalted  to  a  superiority  above  the  generality  of  man- 
kind; and  1  pleased  myself  in  looking  down  with  contempt 
upon  such  as  were  weak  enough  to  believe  the  orthodox 
doctrines.  Thus  I  generally  soothed  my  conscience:  and, 
if  at  any  time  I  was  uneasy  at  the  apprehension  that  1  did 
not  thoroughly  deserve  eternal  happiness,  and  was  not  en- 
tirely fit  for  heaven;  the  same  book  afforded  me  a  soft 
pillow  on  which  to  lull  myself  to  sleep.  It  argued,  and  I 
then  thought  proved,  that  there  were  no  eternal  torments; 
and  it  insinuated,  that  -there  were  no  torments,  except  for 
notorious  sinners;  and  that  such  as  should  just  fall  short  of 
heaven,  would  sink  into  their  original  nothing.  With  this 
welcome  scheme  I  silenced  all  my  fears,  and  told  my  ac- 
cusing conscience,  that,  if  I  fell  short  of  heaven,  I  should 
be  annihilated,  and  never  be  sensible  of  my  loss. . . . 

"In  this  awful  state  of  mind  I  attempted  to  obtain  admis^ 
sion  into  holy  orders!  ...  As  fiir  as  I  understood  such  con- 
troyersies,  I  was  nearly  a  Socinian  and  Pelagian,  and  wholly 


1763—1772.]         TO  HIS  ORDINATION.  39 

an  Arminian While  I  was  preparing  for  the  solemn 

office,  I  lived,  as  before,  in  known  sin,  and  in  utter  neglect 
of  prayer;  my  whole  preparation  consisting  of  nothing  else, 
than  an  attention  to  those  studies,  which  were  more  imme- 
diately requisite  for  reputably  passing  through  the  previous 
examination. 

"Thus  with  a  heart  full  of  pride  and  wickedness;  my  life 
polluted  with  many  unrepented,  imforsaken  sins;  without 
one  cry  for  mercy,  one  prayer  for  direction  or  assistance, 
or  for  a  blessing  upon  what  I  was  about  to  do;  after  having 
concealed  my  real  sentiments  under  the  mask  of  general  ex- 
pressions; after  having  subscribed  articles  directly  contrary 
to  what  I  believed;  and  after  having  blasphemously  declar- 
ed, in  the  presence  of  God  and  of  the  congregation,  in  the 
most  solemn  manner,  sealing  it  with  the  Lord's  supper,  that 
I  judged  myself  to  be  'inwardly  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost 
to  take  that  office  upon  me,' — ^not  knowing  or  believing  that 
there  was  any  Holy  Ghost, — on  September  the  20th,  1772, 
I  was  ordained  a  deacon. 

"For  ever  blessed  be  the  God  of  all  long-suffering  and 
mercy,  who  had  patience  vvith  such  a  rebel  and  blasphem- 
er; such  an  irreverent  trifler  with  his  majesty;  and  such  a 
presumptuous  intruder  into  his  sacred  ministry!  I  never 
think  of  this  daring  wickedness,  without  being  tilled  with 
amazement  that  I  am  out  of  hell:  without  adoring  that  gra- 
cious God,  who  permitted  such  an  atrocious  sinner  to  live, 
yea,  to  serve  him,  and  with  acceptance,  I  trust,  to  call  him 
Father,  and  as  his  minister  to  speak  in  his  name.  Bless  the 
Lord,  O  mil  souU  und^  cdl  that  is  "jciihin  me,  hless  his  holy 
name!  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  forget  not  all  his  bene' 
Jits!  tscho  forgiveth  all  thy  iniquities^  and  healeth  all  thy  diseas- 
es; who  redeemeththy  life  from  destruction;  who  croxaneth  thee 
with  loving-kindness  and  tender  mercies!  May  I  fervently 
love,  and  very  humbly  and  devotedly  serve  that  God,  who 
hath  multiplied  his  mercies  in  abundantly  pardoning  my 
complicated  provocations!" 

Seldom,  I  believe,  has  a  prayer  been  more  strikingly 
answered,  than  that  which  my  dear  father  here  so  humbly 
and  fervently  offers;  as  his  subsequent  life,  during  a  period 
of  five  and  forty  years,  amply  testified. 

He  proceeds,  (still  in  the  Force  of  Truth,)  "I  had  con- 
siderable difficulties  to  surmount  in  obtaining  admission  into 
the  ministry,  arising  from  my  peculiar  circumstances;  which 
likewise  rendered  my  conduct  the  more  inexcusable:  and 


40  FROM  HIS  APPRENTICESHIP         [Chap.  U. 

my  views,  as  far  as  I  can  ascertain  them,  were  these  three: 
a  desire  of  a  less  laborious,  and  more  comfortable  way  of 
procuring  a  maintenance,  than  otherwise  I  had  the  pros- 
pect of: — the  expectation  of  more  leisure  to  employ  in  read- 
ing-, of  which  I  was  inordinately  fond: — and  a  proud  conceit 
€)f  my  abiUties,  wifh  a  vain-glorious  imagination,  that  I 
should  some  time  distinguish  and  advance  myself  in  the  lit- 
erary world.  These  were  my  ruling  motives  in  taking  this 
bold  step:  motives  as  opposite  to  those  which  should  inllu- 
ence  men  to  enter  on  the  sacred  office,  as  pride  is  opposite 
to  humility,  ambition  to  contentment  in  a  low  estate,  and  a 
willingness  to  be  the  least  of  all,  and  the  servant  of  alt;  as 
opposite  as  lore  of  self,  of  the  world,  of  filthy  lucre,  and 
slothful  ease,  is  to  the  love  of  God,  of  souls,  and  of  the  la- 
borious work  of  the  ministry.  To  me  therefore  be  the 
shame  of  this  heinous  sin,  and  to  God  be  all  the  glory  of 
over-ruling  it  for  good,  I  trust,  both  to  unworthy  me,  and 
to  his  dear  people,  the  church  which  he  hath  purchased  with 
his  own  bloodP^'^ 

Having  thus  brought  down  the  history  of  my  father's  life 
to  the  period  of  his  ordination,  without  suppressing  one 
material  word  which  he  has  written  upon  the  subject,  it  ap- 
pears to  me  that  there  are  two  points  which  may  need  some 
apology;  meaning  by  that  term,  however,  rather  defence 
than  excuse. 

First,  I  knpw  not  whether  some  readers  may  think,  that 
the  particulars  relative  to  his  admission  into  holy  orders 
are  detailed  with  an  unnecessary  minuteness.  My  answer 
to  such  an  objection  must  be,  that  I  cannot  allow  the  intro- 
duction into  the  church  of  the  subject  of  these  memoirs  to 
be  put  on  the  same  footing  with  every  event  of  the  like  na- 
ture. In  its  consequences  it  has  proved  to  thousands,  and  I 
doubt  not  will  prove  to  thousands  more,  of  the  highest  im- 
portance. In  its  circumstances,  therefore,  which  were  not 
common  ones,  and  in  themselves  involve  a  remarkable  dis^- 
play  of  character,  it  cannot  fail  to  be  interesting  to  all,  who 
take  pleasure  in  tracing  the  means  by  which  providence 
accomplishes  its  designs,  often  rendering  the  evil  passions, 
or  evil  conduct  of  man  subservient  to  the  display  of  the 
goodness  of  God. 

•  See  further  my  father's  Practical  Observations  on  the  case  of  "Ko- 
rah  and  his  compan},"  Numbers  xvi. 


1763—1772.]         TO  HIS  ORDINATION.  41 

The  other  point  is  one. which  it  is  of  much  greater  im- 
portance to  place  in  a  just  light:  I  mean  the  severe  judg- 
ment, as  many  will  think  it,  which  my  father  passes  upon 
himself  and  his  own  conduct.  This  extends  itself  to  every 
part  of  his  life:  to  his  early  days  at  school;  to  his  appren- 
ticeship; to  his  conduct  while  subsequently  resident  with 
his  father;  and  to  no  period,  nor  to  any  event,  more  re- 
markably than  to  his  taking  upon  himself  the  sacred  office  of 
the  ministry.  We  read  here  nothing  of  the  levities  or  the 
indiscretions  of  youth,  where  real  immoralities  are  intend- 
ed; nothing  of  simple  improprieties,  and  the  want  of  greater 
consideration  and  more  serious  thought.  The  offences  of  the 
school-boy  are  sins  against  God:  undutifulness  to  a  parent, 
even  though  the  conduct  of  that  parent  be  marked  by 
some  degree  of  harshness,  is  regarded  as  a  crime:  and, 
above  all,  tampering  with  solemn  subscriptions,  and  intrud- 
ing into  the  sacred  office  from  ambitious,  self-indulgent,  and 
other  unhallowed  motives,  is  felt  as  an  impiety,  which  no 
words  are  strong  enough  to  describe.  Yet,  after  all,  some 
may  be  ready  to  ask,  and  not  without  a  degree  of  justice, 
What  was  there,  at  least  if  one  or  two  exceptions  be  made, 
worse  than  is  found  in  thousands,  who  are  never  troubled 
with  any  such  apprehensions  of  the  enormity  of  their  con- 
duct?— Now  I  feel  that  I  proceed  entirely  upon  principles 
which  he,  whose  case  gives  occasion  to  the  inquiry,  would 
sanction,  and,  what  is  still  more  important,  upon  the  princi- 
ples of  Scripture  itself,  when  I  return  the  following  answer 
to  this  question.  Every  thing  depends  upon  the  standard 
})y  which  we  judge.  If  tlie  current  opinions  of  mankind  be 
our  standard,  then  it  will  be  easy  for  us  to  "make  light  of 
sin," — our  own  sins,  and  those  of  others.  But  if,  with  ihe 
holy  character  before  us — for  such  he  had  become  bgfore 
he  wrote  either  of  his  narratives, — we  ''enter  into  the  sanc- 
tuary of  God,"  and  judge  by  the  standard  of  his  holy  law, 
— especially  as  it  is  explained  by  our  blessed  Savior  in  his 
sermon  on  the  mount, — then  the  purest  and  most  blame- 
less among  us  will  lind  reason  to  cry,  even  with  anguish 
of  spirit,  '^Gcd  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner!"  If  we  there 
obtain  some  glimpses  of  the  majesty  and  glory  of  the  "holj^, 
holy,  holy.  Lord  God  almighty,"  then,  far  from  shining  in 
our  own  eyes,or  comparing  ourselves,  to  our  own  adv-antage, 
with  our  fellow  sinners,  we  shall  be  prepared,  with  Job,  and 
David,  and  Isaiah,  and  Daniel,  and  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,* 

*  Job  xUi.    Psal.  xxv,  U.    Isa-  vi.     Luke  v,  8.    1  Tim,  i,  12 — 16. 
*4 


42  FROM  HIS  APPRENTICESHIP  [Chap.  I(. 

and  Augustine,*  and  a  thousand  others  who  hare  obtained 
"a  good  report"  in  the  annals  of  the  church,  to  exclaim, 
"I  abhor  myself  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes. — Wo  is  me, 
I  am  undone! — Remember  not  against  me  the  sins  and  offen- 
ces of  my  youth!" — And  this  is  the  true  explanation  of  the 
judgment  which  my  father  passes  upon  his  own  character 
and  conduct. 

And,  with  respect  to  the  particular  part  of  the  above  nar- 
rative, which  relates  to  the  views  and  motives  for  entering 
into  holy  orders,  let  me  join  its  author  in  earnestly  solicit- 
ing a  most  serious  attention  to  it,  from  all  those  of  the  cler- 
gy whose  eye  it  may  meet,  and  who  may  never  yet  have 
taken  such  solemn  views,  as  they  will  think  them,,  of  their 
own  office,  and  of  the  temper  with  which  it  should  be  un- 
dertaken. Many  persons  of  this  class  are  known  to  have 
been  brought  to  a  new,  and  what  I  must  be  allowed  to 
call,  a  better  sense  of  the  subject,  by  what  my  father  has 
already  laid  before  the  public  concerning  his  own  case: 
and  my  prayer  is,  that  that  case,  when  thus  anew,  and  more 
fully  presented,  may  be  attended  with  like  effects  to  many 
more. 

The  reasons  assigned  in  the  former  of  these  two  reflec- 
tions induce  me  not  to  omit  an  incident,  yet  more  minute, 
but  still  having  its  place  to  fill  in  bringing  about  the  event 
under  consideration.     My  father  has  recorded  it  as  follows. 

"One  circumstance,  very  trivial  in  itself,  was  so  impor- 
tant in  its  consequences,  that  I  am  not  wilHng  to  pass  it 
over. — At  the  sheep-shearing  which  followed  my  disgrace- 
ful return  from  Alfbrd,  in  1762,  a  small  ewe-lamb,  marked 
with  a  black  spot  on  the  side,  in  rather  a  peculiar  manner, 
attracted  my  notice:  and  my  father,  being  probably  in  high 
good  humor  on  the  occasion,  gave  it  me;  and,  though  kept 
among  his  sheep,  it  was  branded  as  mine.  Though  I  was 
always  nearly  moneyless,  and  never  possessed  a  guinea  in 
my  life,  till  I  was  above  twenty  years  old,  I  never  yielded 
to  the  temptation  of  selling  any  of  the  lambs  which  this  ewe 
brought  me:  so  that  by  management,  in  exchanging  male 
l^mbs  for  young  ewes,  notwithstanding  the  loss  of  nine  of 
i^y  little  flock,  in  one  year,  by  the  rot,  I  possessed  sixty- 
eight  sheep,  besides  lambs,  when  I  attempted  to  obtain  or- 
ders.    These,  after  many  objections,  my  father  purchased 

♦  See  the  affecting  and  edifjing  abstract  of  his  Confessions  in  Milner's 
Church  History,  vol.  ii. — [A  new  edilion  of  this  very  valuable  work  is 
just  published  by  Samuel  T.  Armstrong. Q — And  on  the  whole  sQbjeet, 
see  my  fatlier's  Discourse  o»  Repentance. 


1763—1772.]         TO  HIS  ORDINATION.  43 

for  68/.  and  this  constituted  the  whole  of  my  fortune.  1 
had  not  a  friend  in  the  world  who  offered  to  advance  me 
five  pounds  in  my  exigency;  and  I  verily  believe,  that,  if  the 
success  or  failure  of  my  application  had  depended  upon 
it,  no  one  would  have  been  found  able  and  willing  to  ad- 
vance money  sufficient  for  my  expences.  When  my  father 
had  granted  his  consent,  I  had  no  expectation,  and  per- 
haps, after  all  the  vexation  which  my  ill-behavior  had  caused 
him,  I  had  no  fair  reason  to  expect,  that  he  would  give 
any  thing  further.  But  with  this  68/.  I  bought  needful 
books;  boarded  myself  for  some  time  at  Boston;  procured 
suitable  clothes;  paid  all  travelling  expences,  and  those  at- 
tending my  ordination;  and  entered  on  my  curacies  possess- 
ed of  twenty  guineas, — a  sum  which,  at  that  time,  was  in- 
deed to  me  considerable. — On  such  trivial  incidents  do  the 
most  important  events  depend;  without  this  lamb,  and  the 
sheep  which  in  this  way  I  acquired,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  my 
whole  plan  of  entering  into  holy  orders  must  have  failed." 
From  a  series  of  my  father's  letters  to  two  of  his  sisters, 
extending  from  within  one  month  after  his  quitting  Bray- 
toft,  in  April,  1772,  till  near  the  close  of  his  hfe,  for  which 
I  am  indebted  to  my  esteemed  relative,  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Webster,  I  am  happy  here  to  confirm,  what  I  before  took 
occasion  to  infer,  the  speedy  revival  of  sentiments  of  filial 
duty  in  his  breast,  whatever  irritation  he  might  at  the  time 
have  felt  and  expressed.  Not  a  sentence  of  a  disrespectful 
kind  towards  his  father  occurs  in  these  free  and  confidential 
communications;  but  they  contain  many  which  express 
great  respect  and  regard.  May  17,  1772,  he  says,  "In  mj 
actions  to  my  father,  I  never  offended;  in  my  words,  I  have 
too  often:  but  my  chief  desire  is  to  avoid  that  for  the  fu- 
ture."— September  18,  1773:  "Surely  nothing  can  afford 
more  satisfaction  to  the  considerate  breast,  than  to  comfort 
the  heart  of  an  aged  parent."  This  indeed  is  spoken  with 
especial  reference  to  his  mother. — January  5,  1774;  of  his 
father  and  mother:  "May  all  the  blessings  we  have  each  re- 
ceived from  them  (perhaps  not  the  most  inconsiderable 
when  the  most  unpalatable,)  be  tenfold  repaid  them,  here 
or  hereafter,  by  the  God  of  mercies!" — July  20,  1774: 
"To  give  paih  or  uneasiness  to  others  I  hardly  bear;  but 
to  give  pain  premeditatedly  to  a  parent,  even  by  innocent 
conduct,  wounds  my  sensibility,  and  staggers  my  resolution, 
even  where  I  think  my  duty  is  at  stake." — What  a  tender 
concero  be  felt  for  his  father,  when  he  had  himself  becoraQ 


44  FROxM  HIS  ORDINATION  [Chap.  lit. 

more  decidedly  religious,  we  may  have  future  opportunities 
of  discerning. 

Indeed  justice  requires  the  remark,  that  this  whole  series 
of  letters,  from  the  Tery  first,  conveys  a  more  favorable 
impression,  than  his  own  report  would  have  led  us  to  ex- 
pect, of  his  social  character.  The  constant,  copious,  and 
confidential  correspondence  kept  up  with  his  sisters  would, 
of  itself,  be  a  very  favorable  indication  upon  this  subject. 
But,  in  addition  to  this,  the  letters  throughout  breathe 
strong  affection  to  all  his  family,  and  shew  him  to  have  taken 
a  lively  interest  in  their  concerns;  and  to  have  been  zealous 
to  serve  them,  as  well  as  qualified  to  do  so  by  great  acute- 
ness  and  sound  sense. 


CHAPTER    III. 


FROM   HIS   ORDINATION  TO   HIS    MARRIAGE. 

We  now  proceed  to  contemplate  the  subject  of  our  me- 
moirs in  his  new  and  higher  character  of  a  minister  of  the 
established  church. 

"After  the  ordination,  having  ofiiciated  on  two  Sundays 
at  Martin,  in  almost  an  empty  church,  (for  service  was  very 
seldom  performed  there,)  I  removed  to  Stoke,  Goldington, 
and  entered  on  my  new  curacies;  boarding  with  a  parish- 
ioner for  twenty  guineas  a  year. 

"My  regular  services  were  at  Stoke  and  Weston  Under- 
wood: but  my  rector  was  sub-dean  of  Lincoln;  and,  when 
he  went  thither  into  residence,  he  procured  other  supplies 
for  Weston,  and  I  officiated  at  Gayhurst,  where  George 
Wrighte,  E«q.  had  a  seat.  This  scon  brought  me  acquainted 
with  the  family.  Mr.  W.  was  a  descendant  of  Sir  Nathan 
Wrighte,  Lord  Keeper  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne:  and 
Mrs.  W.  was  the  only  daughter  of  Sir  Joseph  Jekyll,  Mas- 
ter of  the  Rolls,  by  Lady  Anne,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of 
HaUfax.  They  were  wealthy  and  liberal,  and  lived  in  a 
most  hospitable  manner.  They  had  b,een  married  several 
years,  but  had  only  one  son;  quite  a  child,  who  was  consid- 
ered as  heir  to  large  estates  possessed  by  relatives,  who 
had  no  children. 

"Having  several  times  dined  at  the  house  on  Sundays, 
after  my  second  service,  1  was  repeatedly  invited  to  dine 


1772—1774.]         TO   HIS    MARRIAGE.  43 

with  parties  on  other  occasions:  and,  notwithstanding  my 
rusticity,  1  received  so  many  invitations  from  different  quar- 
ters, that  I  was  compelled  to  be  almost  rude,  in  order  to 
secure  time  for  those  studies  to  which  I  now  applied  with 
indefatigable  zeal. 

"After  a  time  Mr.  W.  employed  me  to  put  his  library  in 
order,  and  to  make  a  catalogue  of  the  books;  which,  as 
consisting  of  the  libraries  of  both  famiUes,  were  numerous 
and  valuable,  but  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  confusion.  I  had 
no  pecuniary  remuneration;  but  a  considerable  number  of 
duplicates,  sufficient  to  recompence  ray  labor. — This  ser- 
vice I  contrived  to  render  without  much  entrenching  on  my 
hours  of  study. 

"Thus  commenced  an  acquaintance,  which  produced  im- 
portant effects  on  my  future  life. 

"Soon  after  my  ordination  I  learned,  that  clergymen,  not 
educated  at  the  university,  might  enter  at  Cambridge,  and, 
without  residence,  might  after  nine  years  take  the  degree 
of  Bachelor  of  Divinity.  This  was  represented  to  me  as 
one  step  towards  distinctions  and  advantages,  to  which  I 
was  sufficiently  alive.  Having  therefore  obtained  from  a 
relation  a  letter  to  Dr.  Caryll,  Master  of  Jesus  College,  I 
went  to  Cambridge;  and,  on  exhibiting  in  several  circles 
my  stock  of  Latin  and  Greek,  now  somewhat  increased,  I 
met  with  that  kind  and  degree  of  applause,  which  abun- 
dantly elated  my  inexperienced  heart.  1  then  entered  at 
Clare-Hall,  where  my  name  stood  for  several  years:  but, 
though  the  expence  did  not  much  exceed  four  guineas  a 
year,  when  1  had  a  family,  1  found  it  more  than  I  could  con- 
veniently spare;  and,  my  expectations  and  desire  of  pre- 
ferments and  distinctions  being  superseded  by  earnestness 
in  the  grand  concerns  of  vital  religion,  I  took  my  name  off 
the  boards.  In  this,  I  have  for  some  years  doubted  whether 
I  acted  wisely  " 

Some  other  topics  connected  with  my  father's  progress 
may  here  properly  receive  illustration  from  his  printed 
account  of  himself,  and  from  his  private  letters. 

His  studies^  as  they  were  at  this  time  the  object  nearest 
his  heart,  may  be  first  noticed.  "No  sooner,"  he  tells  us 
in  the  'Force  of  Truth,'  "was  I  fixed  in  a  curacy,  than  with 
close  application  I  sat  down  to  the  study  of  the  learned 
languages,  and  such  other  subjects  as  I  considered  most 
needful  in  order  to  lay  the  foundation  of  my  future  advance- 
ment.    And  oh  that  I  were  now  as  diligent  in  serving  Gpd, 


46  FROM  HIS   ORDINATION        [Chap.  IIL 

as  I  was  then  in  serving  self  and  ambition!  I  spared  no 
pains,  I  shunned,  as  much  as  I  well  could,  all  acquaintance 
and  diversions,  and  retrenched  from  my  usual  hours  of 
sleep,  that  I  might  keep  more  closely  to  this  business." 

My  memory  much  deceives  me  if  I  have  not  repeatedly 
heard  my  father  state,  that,  at  the  period  of  his  visit  to 
Cambridge,  about  the  month  of  June,  1773,  (nine  months 
after  his  ordination,)  he  had  read  through  the  entire  works 
of  Josephusin  the  original  Greek:  which  would  of  itself  be 
no  ordinary  proof  of  his  diligence,  in  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  was  placed. 

But  the  following  extract  of  a  letter  to  one  of  his  sisters, 
dated  September  18,  1773,  will  present  the  best  picture  of 
the  ardor  of  his  mind  in  these  pursuits  at  the  time  referred 
to. — "I  have  for  some  time  pursued  my  studies  with  assidu- 
ity, but  I  have  only  lately  got  to  pursue  them  with  method. 
I  am  now  about  three  hours  in  the  day  engaged  in  the  He- 
brew. The  books  I  use  are  a  Hebrew  Bible,  grammars, 
and  lexicons,  the  noted  Septuagint,  or  Greek  translation  so 
much  talked  of,  and  a  comment — would  it  were  my  father's!" 
Alas!  his  father's  was  the  Spcinian  commentary,  noticed  in 
the  'Force  of  Truth,'  as  the  source  from  which  he  had 
already  imbibed  so  much  poison. — "I  began  at  the  first 
chapter  of  Genesis,  and  I  intend  to  go  through  the  whole 
Bible  in  that  manner.  You  will  see  the  manifold  advan- 
tage of  thus  reading  the  scriptures.  The  original  text,  a 
Greek  translation  two  thousand  years  old  and  above,  our 
translation,  and  comments,  read  carefully,  and  compared 
together,  word  by  word,  cannot  fail  to  give  a  deep  insig'ht 
into  the  sense  of  the  scriptures;  and  at  the  same  time  two 
languages  are  unitedly  improving.  The  same  I  am  doing  in 
the  Greek,  and  profane  history.  I  am  reading  old  Hero- 
dotus in  the  original,  in  Latin,  and  in  English.  For  each 
book  read,  whether  ancient  or  modern  history,  I  have  my 
jnaps  laid  before  me,  and  trace  each  incident  by  the  map; 
and  in  some  degree  also  fix  the  chronology.  So  that,  though 
the  languages  seem  my  principal  study,  history,  geography, 
chronology,  divinity,  go  hand  in  hand.  Neither  is  logic 
peglected.  I  hare  set  about  that  in  some  degree;  not  the 
dry  scholastic  forms,  but  the  useful  art  of  tracing  our  judg- 
ments to  their  origin,  and  building  our  reasons  or  inferences 
on  due  foundations;  or  the  art  of  arguing  justly  from  v/elU 
grounded  principles. — In  the  writing  way  I  have  just  now 
begun  a  very  arduous  task,  but,  I  hope,  not  too  arduous.    1 


1772—1774.]         TO   HIS    MARRIAGE.  47 

have  fixed  upon  our  Savior's  sermon  on  the  nSount,  and 
have  undertaken  in  a  course  of  sermons  to  go  through  it. 
My  design  is  to  shew,  that  in  that  short  discourse  is  com- 
prehended every  Christian  virtue,  every  moral  duty;  that 
it  is  not,  as  is  generally  apprehended,  a  loose  set  of  de- 
tached maxims,  but  a  regular,  consistent  system  of  moral- 
ity. What  I  shall  make  of  it  I  know  not:  but  I  think  I 
shall,  by  well  considering  each  article,  comparing  it  with 
other  parts  of  scripture,  and  the  situation  of  man  in  this 
world,  find  out  many  beauties,  at  least  to  me,  before  undis- 
covered. I  have  already  found  in  it  far  more  than  ever  I 
observed  before,  or  than  any  authors  I  have  consulted  have 
noticed.  I  will  assure  you  the  propriety  of  each  sentence, 
the  wisdom,  the  thorough  knowledge  of  the  human  heart, 
appear  to  me  most  admirable. — If,  in  going  through  it  in  the 
manner  I  propose,  and  have  engaged  to  do,  in  a  course  of 
sermons,  I  should  please  myself  and  others,  I  shall  perhaps 
throw  the  whole  into  some  other  form,  and  communicate 
it  to  the  public.  At  least  I  made  choice  of  the  subject 
not  without  having  some  such  design  in  view;  and  my  utmost 
ca»e  and  attention  shall  be  used,  to  try  whether  1  cannot 
make  it  deserving  of  a  share  of  the  public  attention.    , 

"You  now  see  in  what  manner  I  spend  my  time.  I  find 
my  taste  for  study  grow  on  me  every  day.  I  only  fear  I 
ehall  be,  like  the  miser,  too  covetous.  In  fact,  I  really 
grudge  every  hour  that  I  employ  otherwise.  Others  go 
out  by  choice,  and  stay  at  home  by  constraint:  but  I  ever 
stay  at  home  by  choice,  and  go  out  because  I  am  persuaded 
it  is  necessary.  In  every  other  expense  I  am  grown  a 
miser:  I  take  ftvery  method  to  save:  but  here  I  am  prodi- 
gal. No  cost  do  I  in  the  least  grudge  to  procure  advantage- 
ous methods  of  pursuing  my  studies.  So  far  is  a  multiplicity 
of  studies,  a  diversity  of  pursuits,  from  overburdening  my 
memory,  that,  by  exercising  it,  I  find  it  in  a  high  degree 
more  retentive;  as  well  as  the  comprehending  faculty  more 
quick. — Nothing  can  give  greater  satisfaction  than  these 
considerations  do.  1  proceed  with  alacrity;  I  think  with  ex- 
pedition. Of  the  Hebrew,  some  twenty  weeks  ago  I  knew 
not  a  letter:  and  I  have  now  read  through  one  hundred  and 
nineteen  of  the  Psalms,  and  twenty-three  chapters  of  Gen- 
esis; and  commonly  now  read  two  chapters  in  the  time 
above  mentioned,  tracing  every  word  to  its  original,  unfold- 
ing every  verbal  difficulty. — But  enough:  I  know  to  whom 
I  write.     I  am  sensible  that  these  things  will  give  you  some 


48  FROM  HIS  ORDINATION  [Ghap.  III. 

pleasure  In  the  perusal,  and   that  you  will  overlook  any 
spice  of  vanity  which  may  appear." 

What  were  the  writer's  more  mature  sentiments  on  the 
view  above  taken  of  the  sermon  on  the  mount,  may  be  seen 
in  his  commentary,  particularly  on  Matt,  vii,  24 — 27.  He 
there  remarks;  "Most  Ci6rtainly,  the  unchangeable  God 
never  meant  to  recomijriend  one  part  of  his  revealed  will, 
by  disparaging  another This  sermon,  doubtless,  con- 
tains the  grand  outlines  of  Christian  practice^  and  none  who, 
on  Christian  principla^  observe  to  do  according  to  it,  will 
come  short  of  salvation.  But  Christian  principles^  or  doc- 
trines^ must  be  learned  from  other  parts  of  the  sacred  ora- 
cles." 

In  another  letter,  about  three  months  afterwards,  he  says: 
"The  Giver  of  every  good  gift  has  made  my  interest,  my 
pleasure,  and  my  Juty,  as  it  were,  all  dependent  on  one 
another.  My  pursuits  of  the  advantages  of  life,  and  of  credit, 
are  thrown  into  such  a  channel,  that,  while  they  form  my 
highest  gratification^  they  best  promote  that  more  impor- 
tant business  I  am  upon;  and  will  succeed  or  fail  in  propor- 
tion as  I  do  my  duty,  and  contribute  my  share  towards  the 
good  of  mankind." 

From  this  extract  it  appears,  that  he  was  not  soiriTmersed 
in  his  literary  pursuits,  as  altogether  to  forget  "that  more 
important  business,"  which  claimed  his  attention  as  a  paro- 
chial minister.  And  repeated  proofs  occur,  even  from  the 
lirst,  of  what  many,  at  least,  would  esteem  considerable  pro- 
fessional diligence;  though  he  was  as  yet  very  much  a  stran- 
ger to  the  right  means  of  promoting  the  spiritual  interests 
of  men,  and  to  the  true  spring  of  a  Christi^fn  minister's  ac- 
tivity;* and  though,  in  his  'Force  of  Truth,'  he  will  only 
give  himself  credit,  for  having  "attended  just  enough  to  the 
public  duties  of  his^  station,  to  support  a  decent  character," 
which  he  deemed  "subservient  to  his  main  design." 

Previously,  however,  to  adducing  any  of  the  proofs  re- 
ferred to,  we  may  advert  to  the  report  which  he  makes  of 
the  state  of  the  country  into  which  he  had  now  removed, 
and,  in  particular,  of  his  own  parishes.  It  is,  upon  the 
whole,  very  unfavorable,  "The  country,"  he  says,  "is 
pleasant;  the  villages  large  and  populous;  but  the  people 
poor,t  ignorant,  and  idle.     Half  of  them  have  little  more 

»  See  2 Cor.  v,  14,  \5. 

f  He  note?  1*.  6(/.  a  day,  without  meat,  as  the  highest  wages  in  har- 
vest time. 


$772— 1774.]  TO  HIS  MARRIAGE.  49 

knowledge,  save  the  art  of  lace-making,  than  they  were 
born  with  There  are  no  schools  any  where  for  the  poor: 
and  they  have  no  means  of  instruction  but  at  church,  where 
the  greater  part  never  come." — The  latter  clause  appUes 
especially  to  Stoke,  the  inhabitants  of  which  parish  he  es- 
timates at  seven  or  eight  hundred. — Of  their  religion  he 
says,  "those  that  have  any  are  almost  all  methodists  and  fa- 
natics, of  one  sort  or  other;  and  for  my  part  I  regard  them 
as  the  best  portion  of  my  parish,  for  any  religion  must  be 
better  than  none." — His  other  parish  of  VVeston,  he  thought, 
"aiforded  a  better  prospect,"  and  appeared,  "more  regular 
and  religious."  "The  greater  part,  indeed,  were  Roman 
catholics,  and  many  methodists:  however,''  he  says,  "they 
all  seem  to  be  of  ^ome  religion,  and  I  have  -ny  regular  con- 
gregation as  constantly  as  I   go Taking  the  whole 

country,  I  think  it  remarkably  poor  and  ignorant;  though 
within  fifty  miles  of  the  metropolis  of  the  most  polished 
country  in  the  world:  but  yet  what  part  of  the  world  is  it, 
in  which  one  meets  not  with  sensible  and  agreeable  people?" 

Such  was  the  scene  of  service  first  assigned  to  my  father 
as  a  clergyman,  and  nearly  such  that  in  which  he  spent  the 
first  thirteen  years  of  his  ministerial  life.  I  now  present 
those  traces  which  remain  of  his  earlier  labors  in  it. 

"From  the  first,  the  pains  he  took  in  preparation  for  the 
pulpit  appear  to  have  been  exemplary.  In  his  first  letter 
from  Stoke,  in  October,  1772,  he  says, '^Sormons  I  write 
two  a  week:"  and  again,  half  a  year  afterwards,  "I  have 
no  spare  time,  having  written  full  seven  sermons,  each 
thirty-five  minutes  long,  in  the  three  weeks  since  my  return 
from  London," — where  he  had  taken  priest's  orders.  Such 
diligence  appears  tahave  been  a  sort  of  elementary  ingre- 
dient of  his  character,  and  certainly  it  gave  a  promise  of  his 
future  success.  May  it  not  also  suggest  a  salutary  admoni- 
tion to  many,  who,  it  may  be  hoped,  are  actuated  by  purer 
principles  than  at  that  time  influenced  the  subject  of  these 
memoirs?  Their  views,  be  it  supposed,  are  more  elevated, 
but  do  they  call  forth  even  equal  exertions? 

In  the  same  letter  he  laments,  that,  "after  preaching  two 
©f  the  most  forcible  discourses  in  his  power,"  he  had  been 
able  to  collect  only  "twenty-six  or  twenty-seven  corhmuni- 
cants."  And  in  another  letter,  of  rather  earlier  date,  he 
says,  "Whether  I  shall  be  able  to  make  any  reformation 
among  my  parishioners,  I  much  doubt;  but  I  tell  them  their 
duty  pretty  freely." 


bb  from:  his  ordination        [Chap.  in. 

As  we  proceed  forward,  I  trust,  we  find  the  desire  of  do- 
ing good  gradually  gathering  strength. — It  may  be  remark- 
ed that  my  father  quitted  his  residence  at  Stoke  in  Novem- 
ber, 1773,  and  lodged  at  Weston  from  that  time  till  his  mar- 
riage, somewhat  more  than  a  year  afterwards. — From  Wes- 
ton he  writes,  January  5, 1774,  '4  wonder  at  people  think- 
ing they  cannot  do  good.  The  circle  that  I  move  in  at 
present  is  so  contracted,  that  the  circumference  almost 
touches  the  centre;  yet  I  should  belie  my  own  heart,  should 
I  say  that  I  never  had  it  in  my  power  to  do  good.  I  hope 
(for  God  alone  knows  the  heart,)  that  I  really  have  beeti 
instrumental,  in  my  calhng,  towards  instilling  better  princi- 
ples into  the  minds  of  some  of  my  flock.  This,  at  least,  is 
my  desire:  from  this  I  promise  myself  present  satisfaction, 
and  something  in  future  of  more  consequence.  Since  I  have 
got  to  Weston,  I  have  made  a  point  of  reading  prayers  on 
the  festivals,  though  I  have  nothing  allowed  for  it.  The 
parish  are  in  great  part  Roman  catholics,  and  I  would  not 
have  it  said,  that  they  have  all  the  religion.  Where  the 
piety  is  rational,  and  free  from  the  superstition  we  express- 
ly blame,  I  would  shew  them,  that  we  do  not  disregard  it. . . 
A  very  pretty  congregation  comes  constantly  to  church,  and 
I  do  not  grudge  my  trouble.  I  would  also  read  prayers  on 
Wednesday  and  Friday;  but  I  might,  by  carrying  it  too  far, 
and  too  hastily,  do  less  good." 

The  last  extract  which  I  shall  introduce,  is  dated  a  year 
latere  at  Stoke,  whither  he  had  returned  on  his  marriage.^ 
^'Saturday  evening  is  appropriated  to  catechising  the  chil- 
dren of  the  parish,  who  come  in  great  numbers  for  instruc- 
tion. There  are  therefore  but  five  other  evenings,  and  it  is 
a  retired  week  indeed,  if  one  of  them  be  not  engaged.  Now 
in  this  time" — the  evenings,  for  his  mornings  were  other- 
wise occupied — "the  plan  I  have  laid  down  requires  me  to 
compose  or  transcribe  two  sermons,  almost  constantly.  .  .  , 

"Stoke  is  an  ignorant,  and  for  that  reason  a  wicked  place, 
I  would  wish  to  do  something  to  remove  both  the  cause 
and  the  effect.  They  are  also  as  poor  as  they  are  ignorant 
and  bad.  Now,  assisting  their  bodily  wants  is  the  be^ 
means  to  prepare  the  way  for  assisting  their  other  wants. 
But  my  station  in  life  prevents  my  doing  much  in  that  oh 
my  own  account.  But,  by  means  of  my  intimacy  at  Mr. 
Wrighte's,  I  am  not  totally  destitute  of  opportunity.  When 
any  person  is  sick,  I  make  it  my  business  to  visit  him^  both 
in  my  pastoral  function,  and  as   a  friend  to  inquire  into  his 


1772—1774.]        TO  HIS  MARRIAGE.  51 

disorder  and  circurristances:  which  done  I  represent  the 
case  to  Mrs.  W.,  who  has  not  hitherto  failed  to  consider  one 
so  represented.  This  prepares  the  way  for  good  advice  and 
instruction,  {which  I  do  not  withhold,)  and  also  renders 
others  more  willing  to  attend  to  me. — A  parcel  of  little 
books  on  various  plain  practical  subjects  had  lain  at  Mr. 
W.'s  some  time.  I  begged  to  have  the  disposal  of  them, 
and,  having  given  some  away,  I  told  the  receivers  to  send 
any  other  persons  to  me  who  wished  for  like  tracts.  I  soon 
had  customers  enough,  and  distributed  a  considerable  nutn- 
ber  about  the  parish.  I  intend  to  make  broad  hints  for 
some  more: — Next  1  have  undertaken  to  explain  the  cate- 
chism in  a  course  of  sermons,  and  also  to  expound  it  in  a 
more  summary  manner  to  the  children,  who  attend  for  this 
purpose;  being  persuaded  that  as  much  good  may  be  done 
in  forming  the  minds  of  youth,  and  instilling  into  them  moral 
and  religious  truth,  as  in  preaching  to  the  more  advanced  ia 

years This  is  the  plan  I  have  laid:  and  to  execute  it 

to  my  own  satisfaction  engrosses  no  small  proportion  of  my 

time  and  attention.  1  do  not  suppose ,  when  he  returns, 

will  like  me  the  better  for  the  care  I  take:  but,  as  I  do 
what  I  consider  my  duty,  I  am  no  ways  anxious  about  it.  .  .  . 
At  the  present,  I  am  entirely  satisfied  with  my  lot,  and  my 
portion  of  enjoyment;  and  my  religion  bids  me  not  be  solicit- 
ous about  futurity."" 

But  we  have  here  outstripped  the  regular  course  of 
events,  and  must  return  to  occurrences,  some,  at  least,  of 
which  contributed  to  the  improvement,  pretty  clearly  in- 
dicated by  this  extract  to  have  taken  place  in  his  ministerial 
character. 

In  June,  1773,  he  lost  a  sister  who,  by  her  marriage, 
had  been  placed  in  not  a  very  favorable  situation.  This 
event  appears  to  have  affected  him  very  much.  He  thus 
speaks  of  it  in  his  reply  to  his  elder  sister,  who  had  com- 
municated the  information  to  him: 

''To  describe  to  you  the  emotions  of  my  mind,  on  the 
receipt  of  your  letter,  the  mixed  passions  and  feelings  with 
which  reflection  furnished  me,  would  require  more  art  than 
my  pen  possesses.  A  tenderness  inseparable  from  affec- 
tion arose,  and  over  and  over  I  read  your  letter,  and  as  oft 
bedewed  it  with  tears;  not  of  unmixed  sorrow,  but  of  a 
tender  regret,  mollified  with  some  not  unpleasing  reflec- 
tions; yet  the  damp  that  it  has  cast  on  my  spirits,  will  re- 
quire time   and  reason  to  dissipate  it.    The  situation  in 


1?2  FROM  HIS  ORDINATION        [Chap.  Ht 

which  I  was  placed  during  the  younger  part  of  my  life 
made  me,  till  within  these  few  years,  love  her  the  best  of 
ail  my  brothers  and  sisters.  Neither  have  1  ever  expe- 
rienced a  dimunition  of  that  afi'ection:  only  as  my  judgment 
increased,  with  it  my  regard  for  the  other  branches  of  the 
family  wonderfully  increased  also — Sincerely  I  thank  you, 
dear  sister,  for  what  you  said  in  regard  to  my  going  to  see 
her,  (when  in  Lincolnshire,)  which  fixed  my  wavering  reso- 
lution: had  1  not  gone,  an  almost  incurable  stab  had  been 
given  to  my  peace." 

He  expresses  a  purpose  to  take  upon  him  the  education 
of  her  younger  son,  to  whom  he  was  god-father.  He  con- 
sidered this  asa  duty  incumbent  upon  him.  "Now  it  has 
pleased  God,"  he  says,  "to  take  the  only  parent  who  was 
at  all  likely  to  supersede  my  care,  it  certainly  belongs  to 
me,  to  see  that  he  be  instructed  in  those  things,  which  I 
promised  in  his  name,  as  soon  as  he  is  capable  of  learning 
them." — Accordingly  he  some  time  afterwards  received 
this  nephew  into  his  family;  and,  scanty  as  his  own  means 
were,  supported  him,  till  at  a  proper  age  he  bound  him 
apprentice  to  the  business  of  a  grocer,  which  he  still  foli 
lows  in  London. 

The  next  incident  recorded  in  the  narrative  appears  to 
have  taken  place  about  the  same  period. 

"While  I  resided  at  Stoke,  the  brother  of  the  person  with 
whom  I  boarded,  an  apothecary  at  Olney,  often  called;  and, 
finding  me  conversible,  discussed  with  me  a  variety  of  sub- 
.lects.  Among  the  rest,  he  mentioned  Mr.  Newton,  as  a 
very  singular  character." — It  can  hardly  be  needful  to  say, 
that  this  was  the  Rev.  John  Newton,  then  curate  of  Olne}^, 
afterwards  rector   of  St.  Mary  Woolnoth,   London.     His 

name  stands  blank  (Mr. )  in  the  editions  of  the  'Force 

of  Truth'  which  have  hitherto  been  published.  He  had 
been  curate  of  Olney  since  his  ordination  in  1764. — "He 
gave  Mr.  N.  full  credit  for  blameless  and  benevolent  con- 
duct, and  for  diligence  as  a  minister:  but  he  was  'a  metho- 
dist  and  an  enthusiast  to  a  very  high  degree.'  'I  cannot,' 
said  the  apothecary.  Hell  what  judgment  to  form  of  his 
preaching;  it  is  like  nothing  which  I  ever  heard:  I  wish 
you  would  come  and  hear  him,  and  give  me  your  opinion. 
He  preaches  on  a  Thursday  evening:  come  and  dine  with 
ine,  and  we  will  go  to  church  together.'  This  was  accord- 
ingly settled  and  executed.  I  sat  fronting  the  pulpit,  and 
verily  thought  Mr.  N.  Ippked  full  on  me  when  he  came  into 


1772—1774.]         TO  HIS  MARRIAGE.  ^  53 

the  desk:  and,  when  he  named  his  text,  to  my  great  aston- 
ishment it  was  this.  Then  Saul^  (zvho  also  is  called  Paul^ 
filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost^  set  his  eijes  on  him^  and  said,  O 
full  of  all  subtlety  and  all  mischief  thou  child  of  the  devil,  thou 
enemy  of  all  righteousness,  wilt  thou  not  cease  to  pervert  the 
right  ways  of  the  Lord!  (Acts  xiii,  i),  10.)  As  I  knew  that  he 
preached  extempore,  I  took  it  for  granted  that  he  had  chosen 
the  text  purposely  on  my  account.  He  observed,  indeed, 
that  ministers  in  the  present  day,  not  being  under  any  im- 
mediate or  infalUble  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  ought  not 
to  imitate  the  decided  and  severe  language  of  the  apostle: 
and  he  then  undertook  to  shew  what  were  the  right  ways 
of  the  Lord,  and  to  point  out  the  wickedness  and  danger  of 
persisting  in  endeavors  to  pervert  or  oppose  them.  But  I 
thought  his  doctrine  abstruse,  imaginative,  and  irrational; 
and  his  manner  uncouth;  and  the  impression,  that,  though 
Elymas  was  named,  I  was  intended,  abode  with  me  for  a 
long  time;  nor  was  it  wholly  effaced  till  I  discovered,  some 
years  afterwards,  that  he  was  regularly  expounding  the  ' 
Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  that  this  passage  came  in  course 
that  evening;  and  that,  in  fact,  he  neither  saw  nor  thought 
of  me.  The  idea,  however,  that  I  was  aimed  at,  neither 
alarmed  nor  irritated  me:  but,  at  first,  served  me  as  a  sub- 
ject of  merriment;  and,  afterwards,  when  I  knew  him  better, 
but  had  not  yet  obtained  the  just  ei^planation  of  the  case, 
it  appeared  to  me  unaccountable.  Yet,  alas!  at  that  time, 
the  passage  was  but  too  appropriate  to  my  character  and 
conduct. — After  this  I  never  heard  Mr.  N.  preach,  till  my 
creed  accorded  with  his  in  all  the  great  outlines." 

The  'Force  of  Truth,'  however,  records  somewhat  in 
Mr.  N.'s  example,  which  soon  after  this  time  proved  more 
useful  to  my  father  than  his  preaching,  and  no  doubt  es- 
sentially conduced  to  that  increased  diligence  in  pastoral 
duties,  which  we  have  already  contemplated. 

"In  January,  1774,"  he  there  states,  "two  of  my  parish- 
ioners, a  man  and  his  wife,  lay  at  the  point  of  death.  I 
had  heard  of  the  circumstance:  but,  according  to  my  gen- 
eral custom,  not  being  sent  for,  1  took  no  notice  of  it;  till 
one  evening,  the  woman  being  now  dead,  and  the  man  dy- 
ing, i  heard  that  my  neighbor,  Mr.  N.,  had  been  several 
limes  to  visit  them.  ImmediateJy  my  conscience  re- 
proached me  with  being  shamefully  negligent,  in  sitting  at 
home,  within  a  i'ew  doors  of  dying  persons,  my  general 
liearers^  and  never  going  to  visit  them.     Directly  it  oecur^ 


34  FROM  HIS  ORDlNATIOl^  [Chap.  HI. 

red  to  me,  that,  whatever  contempt  I  might  have  for  Mr. 
J^.'s  doctrines,  1  must  acknowledge  his  practice  to  be  more 
consistent  with  the  ministerial  character  than  my  own.  He 
must  have  more  zeal  and  love  for  souls  than  I  had,  or  he 
would  not  have  walked  so  far  to  visit  and  supply  my  lack 
of  care  to  those,  who,  as  far  as  I  was  concerned,  might 
have  been  left  to  perish  in  their  sins. — This  reflection  af- 
fected me  so  much,  that,  without  delay,  and  very  earnestly, 
yea  with  tears,  I  besought  the  Lord  to  forgive  my  past  neg- 
lect; and  1  resolved  thenceforth  to  be  more  attentive  to 
this  duty:  which  resolution,  though  at  first  formed  in  igno- 
rant dependance  on  my  own  strength,  I  have,  by  divine 
grace,  been  enabled  hitherto  to  keep. — I  went  immediate- 
ly to  visit  the  survivor:  and  the  affecting  sight  of  one  per- 
son already  dead,  and  another  expiring  in  the  same  cham- 
ber, served  more  deeply  to  impress  my  serious  convictions: 
so  that  from  that  time  1  have  constantly  visited  the  sick  of 
my  parishes,  as  far  as  1  have  had  opportunity,  and  have  en- 
deavored, to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  to  perform  that  es- 
sential part  of  a  parish  ministers  duty." 

This  occurred  at  Weston,  where  my  father  then  resided; 
and  from  a  letter  written  at  the  same  time  it  appears,  that 
the  man  and  his  wife  referred  to,  having  lived  forty  years 
together,  were  both  buried  at  once  in  the  same  grave. — We 
return  to  the  narrative. 

'•As  curate  of  Weston  Underwood,  I  became  acquainted 
with  the  family  of  the  Higgins';  from  whom  I  received  many 
favors,  as  long  as  I  held  that  curacy.  Bartholomew  Hig- 
gins,  Esq.  senior,  was  the  friend  mentioned  in  the  ^Force 
of  Truth,'  who  induced  me  to  read  the  conclusion  of  Bish- 
op Burnett's  History  of  his  Own  Time.  He  also  expressed 
dissatisfaction  wiih  my  general  doctrine,  as  not  sufficiently 
evangelical;  and  he  intimated  topics  on  which  he  wished 
me  to  speak  more  fully.  But  when  afterwards  I  became 
more  thoroughly  in  earnest  in  applying  evangelical  truth  to 
practical  purposes,  he  thought  I  went  too  far;  especially 
when  I  advanced  the  sentiments  called  Calvinistic.  But 
this  subject  will  again  come  under  notice  more  regularly 
hereafter." 

This  perusal  of  that  part  of  Burnett's  history,  which  re- 
lates to  the  clergy,  was  attended  with  important  eflfects, 
which  the  'Force  of  Truth'  thus  explains:  H  was  consider- 
ably instructed  and  impressed  by  it:  I  was  convinced  that  my 
entrance  into  the  n^nistry  had  been  the  result  of  very  wrong 


1772—1774.]  TO  HIS  MARRIAGE,  66 

motives;  was  preceded  by  a  very  unsuitable  preparation, 
and  accompanied  with  very  improper  conduct.  Some  unea- 
siness was  also  excited  in  my  mind  concerning  my  neglect 
of  the  important  duties  of  that  high  calling;  and,  though  I 
was  enslaved  by  sin,  and  too  much  engaged  in  other  studies, 
and  in  love  with  this  present  world,  to  relinquish  my  flat- 
tering pursuit  of  reputation  and  preferment,  and  to  change 
the  course  of  my  life,  studies  and  employments;  yet  by  inter- 
vals I  experienced  desires  and  purposes,  at  some  future  peri- 
od to  devote  myself  wholly  to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  in  the 

manner  to  which  he  exhorts  the  clergy At  this  time  I 

lived  without^ny  secret  religion  ....  My  convictions,"  how- 
ever, "would  no  longer  be  silenced  or  appeased" and, 

"I  was  enabled  to  enter  upon  a  form  of  devotion.  Formal 
enough  indeed  it  was  in  some  respects,  for  I  neither  knew 
that  Mediator,  through  whom,  nor  that  Spirit  by  Vhom, 
prayers  are  offered  up  with  acceptance  unto  the  Father.  Yet, 
though  utterly  in  the  dark  as  to  the  true  and  living  way  to  the 
throne  of  grace,  I  am  persuaded  there  were  even  then  sea- 
sons, when  i  was  enabled  to  rise  above  a  mere  form,  and  to  of- 
er  petitions  so  far  spiritual  as  to  be  accepted  and  answered  " 
Thus  was  my  fathers  mind  evidently  moving,  even  at 
this  time,  towards  that  happy  consummation  at  which  it  at 
length  arrived;  and  thus  did  a  succession  of  apparently  ac- 
cidental circumstances  conspire  to  advance  his  progress. 
But  for  the  present  our  attention  is  called  to  another  sub- 
ject, thus  introduced  in  his  narrative. 

"AH  my  views  of  advancing  myself  in  the  world  seemed 
to  require,  that  I  should  for  some  time,  at  least,  live  unmar- 
ried: but  I  had  always  resolved,  and  avowed  my  resolution, 
to  marry  as  soon  as  I  should  have  the  prospect  of  maintain^ 
ing  a  family:  and  no  ambitious  projects  altered  that  pur- 
pose. After  many  merciful  disappointments,  as  1  have  since 
known  them  to  be,  I  became  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Jane 
Kell — whom  I  first  met  at  a  christening,  and  won  her  money 
at  cards!  She  was  of  a  family  in  reputable  circumstances  at 
Hexham,  in  Northumberland:"  but  her  father,  having 
never  profited  by  the  wise  man's  admonition,  He  that 
hateth  suretyship  is  sure^  impoverished  himself  to  pay  other 
men's  debts;  and  his  daughter  Jane,  "having  acquired 
competent  skill  in  various  departments,  entered,  at  an  eariy 
age,  into  the  service  of  Lady  Anne  Jekyll.  She  was  now 
Mrs.  Wrighte's  house-keeper,  and  had  continued  so  long 
in  the  famiiyj  with  high  approbation,  that  she  was  re-spect- 


56  FROM  HIS  ORDINATION         [Chap.  lU. 

ed  almost  as  a  relative.  On  every  conversation  I  had  with 
her  she  rose  in  my  esteem;  and,  after  rather  more  hesita- 
tion than  was  usual  with  me,  I  opened  my  mind  to  her  by 
letter,  which  at  first  produced  some  rather  singular  incidents; 
but  at  length  terminated  in  our  marriage,  December,  5, 
1774." 

I  shall  here  take  the  liberty  of  saying,  that  though  my 
dear  mother  was  not  found  in  an  elevated  station,  she  was, 
throughout  hfe,  and  in  all  circumstances  in  which  she  ever 
was  placed,  a  ''help  meet"  for  him  to  whom  she  was  united. 
She  was  one  of  those  thoroughly  prudent,  disinterested, 
friendly,  cheerful,  and  kind  persons,  who  conciliate  the 
esteem  of  all  that  converse  with  them,  whether  superiors, 
inferiors,  or  equals.  After  all  the  abatements  which  it  may 
be  thought  requisite  to  make  in  the  report  of  an  admirer^  I 
believe  there  was  much  justice  in  the  account  which  my 
father  gave  of  her  to  his  sister,  July  20,  1774:  "Whom 
nature  has  blessed  with  a  variety  of  her  choicest  gifts, — 
sense,  prudence,  sensibihty:  who  has  had  many  advantages 
of  education,  has  read  much,  and  is  fit  to  appear  with 
credit  in  any  company:  who  has  a  heart  fraught  with  the 
most  virtuous  and  generous  sentiments,  and  has  given  such 
proofs  of  it,  as  are  fully  conclusive,  and  which,  coming  to 
my  knowledge  by  such  means  as  contain  something  of  the 
marvellous,  cannot  be  disputed.  No  woman  in  the  world  is 
better  adapted  for  the  management  of  a  family." 

One  of  the  proofs  of  generosity  referred  to  was  her 
declining  my  lather's  first  proposals,  though  perfectly 
agreeable  to  her,  because  she  believed  the  connexion 
would  be  "disadvantageous  to  him."  This  he  learned  di- 
rectly from  Mrs.  Wrighte,  without  Mrs.  W.'s  being  able, 
either  previously,  or  at  the  time  she  told  him  the  fact,  to 
divine  who  was  the  person  that  had  been  refused. 

I  possess  one,  and  only  one  letter  of  her  writing. — 
the  first  to  which  she  subscribed  her  newly-acquired 
name:  and,  as  it  presents  a  ghmpse  of  the  Lincolnshire 
family,  viewed,  it  must  be  confessed,  under  favorable  cir- 
cumstances, and  will  at  least  exhibit  the  amiable  temper  of 
thp.  writer's  mind,  I  shall  venture  to  insert  a  part  of  it. 

''Braytoft,  December  13,  1774.— My  dear  Mother,  Let 
me  once  more  intreat  the  favor  of  your  intercession  to  our 
heavenly  Father,  for  the  continuance  of  happiness  to  your 
now  happy  daughter.  You  are  already  informed,  that  Mon- 
day the  fifth  gave  you  a  son  and  me  a  husband,  of  whose 


1772—1774.}  TO  HIS  MARRIAGE.  57 

goodness  I  could  say  more  than  my  paper  will  hold:  so  1  shall 
cut  it  short,  by  assuring  you  he  is  every  thing  that  I  wish. 
My  dear  friend  has  likewise  told  you  that  we  are  now  in 
Lincolnshire,  and  at  present  in  the  house  with  his  worthy 
father  and  mother.  What  would  I  give  foi^  a  head  and  a  pen 
equal  to  the  task  of  describing  to  you  this  agreeable  pair, 
and  their  worthy  children.  Indeed  it  is  comfortable  to  see 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Scott  set  round  hy  their  sons  and  daughters 
and  grand  children,  all  equally  sensible  and  good  ....  They 
really  treat  me  in  a  manner  as  if  their  son,  brother,  or 
nephew  had  married  a  person  equal  in  fortune  to  his  merits. 
God  grant  that  I  may  continue  deserving  of  their  kindness 
and  relationship!  ....  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wrighte  accompanied 
me  to  church — though  it  was  the  first  time  of  her  being  out 
to  walk  after  a  long  and  dangerous  illness:  and  Mr.  W.  gave 
me  away.*  ...  I  am,  in  every  respect,  your  dutiful  and  af- 
fectionate daughter,  J.  Scott. 

"This  is  the  first  time  I  have  made  use  of  this  respectable 
name." 

The  next  thing  which  occurs  in  my  father's  narrative, 
after  the  mention  of  his  marriage,  is  a  statement  of  his 
finances  and  prospects  at  the  time.  After  some  demur,  I 
have  determined  to  allow  him  unreservedly  to  lay  this  also, 
and  other  passages  of  the  same  kind,  before  the  reader,  be- 
cause they  both  illustrate  his  character,  and  tend  to  enforce 
one  of  the  great  lessons  which  his  history  suggests — the  duty 
and  safety  of  implicitly  trusting  in  providence,  notwithstand- 
ing a  provision  apparently  very  inadequate,  while  we  de- 
vote ourselves  to  the  duties  of  our  station,  as  the  servants 
of  God. 

"What  my  wife  had  saved,"  he  says,  "(which  might 
have  been  more  than  double  what  it  was,  had  not  her  liber- 
ality, especially  to  her  aged  mother,  deducted  from  it,) 
with  the  presents  she  received,  purchased  us  sufficient  fur- 
niture. M}'  income,  with  Busby's  Lectures  once  in  three 
years,  amounted  to  nearly  60/.  1  had  also  lately  been  en- 
gaged by  Mr.  Wrighte,  to  teach  his  son  the  first  rudiments  of 
learning — going  over  to  his  house,  at  three  miles  distance, 
every  day  for  the  purpose;  for  which  he  paid  me  30/.  a 
year:  and  I  had  further  a  good  prospect  of  receiving  a  few 
pupils  into  my  house,  when  settled.  So  that,  taking  into 
account  the  comparative  cheapness  of  living  at  that  time,  I 

>         •  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  also  stood  sponsors  for  her  elder  children. 


68  FROM  HIS  ORDINATIOIN^        [Chap.  IIL 

have  seldom  in  subsequent  years  had  a  fairer  prospect  of 
adequate  support;  except  as  I  have  learned  to  trust  in  Hini 
for  temporal  provision,  as  w^ll  as  eternal  salvation,  who 
clothes  the  lilies  and  feeds  the  birds  of  the  air:  of  which  I  at 
that  time  knew  httle. 

"The  union  thus  formed  proved  to  me,  in  all  respects, 
an  inexpressible  mercy.  Even  at  the  time  I  had  some  con- 
fused sense  of  the  goodness  of  God  in  it;  and,  in  a  poor  blind 
way,  attempted  both  to  thank  him  for  it,  and  to  purpose  de- 
voting myself  to  his  service  in  the  work  of  the  ministry: 
though  I  then  scarcely  knew  any  thing  of  that  sacred  ser- 
vice. 

"So  far  was  the  step  I  had  taken  from  losing  me  any  favor 
with  my  former  friends,  as  i  had  previously  apprehended  it 
might,  that  it  seemed  to  raise  me  in  their  estimation,  for 
having,  as  they  expressed  it,  the  good  sense  to  discern  and 
value  what  was  highly  estimable  in  one  situate  as  my  wife 
had  been:  and,  had  no  material  change  taken  place  in  my 
religious  sentiments  and  conduct,  I  am  persuaded  I  should 
have  met  with  steady  encouragement  in  my  plans.  Mr. 
Wrighte  especially,  with  manifest  cordiality,  took  vigorous 
measures  to  procure  me  a  living:  and  as  he  had,  in  pre- 
viously disposing  of  some  preferments  in  his  gift,  obliged 
more  than  one  of  the  superior  clergy,  he  entertained  no 
doubt  of  success, 

"Neither  my  wife  nor  myself  had  been  much  in  the  way 
of  religious  people,  according  to  my  present  interpretation 
of  that  term;  neither  of  us  understood  the  grand  outlines  of 
the  gospel;  yet  we  were  both  impressed  with  a  strong  sense 
of  the  truth  and  importance  of  the  Christian  religion,  in  a 
general  view  of  it:  but  her  impressions  were  the  deeper, 
and  had  far  less,  from  false  principles  and  evil  habits,  to 
counteract  them.  Even  before  we  were  fixed  in  a  settled 
habitation,  the  thought  seemed  to  occur  to  us  both,  almost 
at  the  same  time,  that  we  ought  to  pray  together;  and  ac- 
cordingly 1  read  some  prayers  from  a  book:  and  when,  with 
a  female  servant,  we  entered  on  a  temporary  dwelling  of 
our  own,  I  immediately  began  family  worship,  though  I  had 
never  lived  in  any  family  where  it  was  practiced,  nor  even 
been  present  at  such  a  service,  except  once,  which  was 
in  the  house  of  a  dissenting  minister.* 

"At  first  I  only  used  a  form  of  prayer  from  a  manual  be- 
longing to  my  wife.     After  a  Uttle  time  I  read  a  chapter  of 

*  "The  Rey.  Mr.  Bull,  of  Newport,  Pagaell." 


1773—1774.]        TO  HIS  MARRIAGE.  59 

the  Bible  before  the  prayer:  and  as  my  views  of  reli- 
gion gradually  improved,  I  aimed  at  something  more 
evangelical,  and  exchanged  my  manual  for  Jenks's  Devo- 
tions. But,  had  I  duly  considered  the  subject,  the  Common 
Prayer  Book  of  our  Church,  with  a  little  arrangement, 
would  have  supplied  me  with  far  more  suitable  words,  than 
any  book  of  the  kind  I  had  then  seen,  or  have  ever  yet 
seen.  Merely,  indeed,  to  read  the  common  prayer,  as  ap- 
pointed for  public  worship,  must,  in  general,  be  both  inad- 
equate, inappropriate,  and  in  many  things  superfluous,  to  a 
family: -but  a  selection  of  collects,  parts  of  collects,  and  ex- 
tracts from  the  Litany,  varied  as  circumstances  should  re- 
quire, I  am  now  fully  convinced,  might  be  rendered,  in  all 
respects,  preierable  to  any  other  forms  which  have  been 
published. 

"1  afterwards  wrote,  on  particular  occasions,  such  pray- 
ers as  I  thought  proper  to  be  added  to  the  form:  and,  at 
length,  I  was  gradually  led  to  adopt  the  method  of  extem- 
porary prayer,  which  I  judged,  and  do  still  judge,  far  better 
for  domestic  worship,  than  any  forms  can  be;  both  as  admit- 
ting of  adaptation  to  the  varying  circumstances  of  famihes, 
and  the  cases  of  friends  and  relatives,  to  be  remembered  in 
our  prayers;  and  also  as  giving  scope  to  more  enlargement 
in  intercession  according  to  occurring  events,  for  all  sorts 
and  conditions  of  men.  By  degrees  also  I  proceeded  to  ex- 
pound, as  well  as  read  the  Scriptures  to  my  family. 

"From  this  beginning,  I  do  not  know  that,  during  more 
than  thirty-eight  years,  the  daily  worship  of  God  in  my  fam- 
ly,  morning  and  evening,  has  ever  been  interrupted,  except 
when  I  was  ill,  or  from  home:  and,  indeed,  when  that  has 
been  the  case,  some  one  of  my  household  has  generally  sup- 
plied my  place. 

'^On  this  I  look  back  with  peculiar  gratitude,  as  one  grand 
means  of  my  uncommon  measure  of  domestic  comfort,  and 
of  bringing  down  on  my  children  the  blessings  which  God 
ha«?  graciously  bestowed  upon  them.  And,  though  the 
time  which  I  have  allotted  to  this  service  has  been,  for 
many  years,  far  longer  than  is  generally  deemed  sufficient 
or  expedient,  yet,  by  a  punctual  observance  of  an  appoint- 
ed hour,  and  the  adjustment  of  domestic  affairs  to  the  plan, 
as  known  and  invariable,  no  inconvenience  worthy  of  notice 
has  resulted  from  it.  Nor  have  I,  as  many  complain  in  ex- 
cuse for  great  brevity,  found  my  domestics  in  general  shew 
symptoms  of  weariness  and  inattention.— My  evening  wor- 
ship is  much  shorter  than  that  of  the  morning;  and  for  many 


60  FROM   HIS   ORDINATIOJN*        [Chap.  in. 

years  past  it  has  taken  place,  in  all  ordinary  cases,  at  a  pretty 
early  hour;  which,  where  it  can  be  practised,  appears  much 
preferable. — In  numerous  instances  I  have  had  visitants,  es- 
pecially relatives,  to  whom  I  clearly  perceived  that  my 
family  worship  was  disagreeable;  and  some  who  would  not 
so  much  as  by  a  change  of  posture  profess  to  join  in  our 
prayers:  but  1  never  once  omitted  the  service,  or  altered 
the  method  of  it  on  that  account;  and  in  some  cases  the 
parties  have  been  softened  into  a  more  cordial  concurrence 
with  us." 

My  dear  father  having  here  dwelt  at  some  length  on  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  features  of  his  domestic  economy, 
it  may  be  advisable  to  despatch  the  subject,  in  what  would 
otherwise  have  been  a  premature  place  for  its  introduction. 
I  apprehend  no  reflecting  person  can  have  enjoyed  the  ad- 
vantage of  being  repeatedly  present  at  his  morning  family 
worship,  without  being  forcibly  struck  with  it.  His  expo- 
sitions on  these  occasions  frequently  rose  above  what  any 
written  comment  can  be  expected  to  reach,  in  copiousness, 
minute  application,  spirit,  and  often  elevation  of  thought. 
Many  times  I  have  wished  that  his  picture  could  have  been 
taken  while  he  was  expounding  to  his  family.  I  have  never 
seen  his  soul  more  thrown  into  his  countenance  than  on 
these  occasions. — Every  topic,  almost,  of  doctrine  or  duty 
here  came  successively  under  review,  as  he  passed  through 
the  Scriptures,  particularly  the  New  Testament,  in  order; 
and  the  very  familiarity  with  which  they  were  illustrated, 
and  brought  down  to  all  the  occurrences  of  life,  made  the 
exposition  doubly  interesting  and  useful.  To  what  passed 
here,  I  am  disposed  especially  to  attribute  it,  that  not  a 
servant  could  spend  any  time  in  his  family,  and  attend  to 
what  was  delivered,  without  becoming  better  informed  in 
Christian  doctrine,  and  better  instructed  in  the  detail  of  the 
duties  and  proprieties  of  life,  than  religious  persons  in  a 
much  superior  station  are  usually  found  to  be. — And  then 
the  prayer,  which  followed,  was  certainly  one  of  the  finest 
specimens  of  "supplication,  intercession,  thanksgiving"  for 
those  present  and  for  "all  men,"  that  can  be  conceived. 
Such  enlargements,  both  as  to  the  subjects  and  the  matter 
of  the  petitions,  1  have  not  elsewhere  heard.  The  scrip- 
ture, which  had  been  read  and  commented  upon,  usually 
gave  the  direction  to  the  former  part  of  this  act  of  devotion: 
and  here  he  had  by  habit  and  meditation,  and  by  entering 
at  the  time,  into  the  spirit  of  the  passage,  acquired  a  read- 


1772—1774.]       TO    HIS   MARRIAGE.  61 

iness  in  seizing  every  part  of  it  in  all  its  bearing?,  and  turn- 
ing it  into  matter  of  supplication,  which  brought  it  again 
under  review  in  the  most  edifying  manner.  Whatever  was 
peculiar  in  the  circumstances  of  any  persons  present,  was 
then  brought  before  "the  throne  of  the  heavenly  grace,"  in 
a  manner  which  shewed  at  once  the  piety,  the  wisdom,  and 
the  benevolence  of  him  who  led  the  service,  and  often 
proved  affecting,  never,  I  think,  painful  to  the  parties  con- 
cerned. From  those  present,  and  all  the  branches  of  the 
family,  with  their  immediate  connexions  and  friends,  he 
launched  forth  to  his  parishioners  and  people;  to  the  vari- 
ous congregations  and  divisions  of  "Christ's  holy  catholic 
cJburch;'^  to  all  the  ''ministers  of  God's  holy  word  and  sacra- 
ments," and  all  "seminaries  of  learning  and  religious  educa- 
tion;" to  his  country  and  all  orders  of  men  in  church  and 
state, — especially  all  those  "who  in  this  transitory  life,  are 
in  trouble,  sorrow,  need,  sickness,  or  any  other  adversity;" 
to  the  surrounding  nations,  with  a  particular  referen«e  to 
passing  events;  to  the  extension  of  Christ's  kingdom  in  the 
world;  to  the  state  of  Jews,  heathens,  and  Mohammedans; 
to  all  the  various  exertions  now  making  to  instruct  the 
ignorant,  to  reclaim  the  vicious,  to  reUeve  the  oppressed, 
and  to  bring  on  those  happy  days,  when  "the  knowjedge  of 
the  Lord  shall  fill  the  earth  as  the  waters  cover  the  seas;" 
and  so  for  "the  whole  world  of  mankind."  His  petitions 
relative  to  these,  and  almost  every  other  topic  that  could  be 
named,  were  often  most  appropriate  and  striking, — while  he 
implored  and  pleaded  for  the  raising  up  in  all  nations  of 
"kings  that  should  resemble  David,  and  Hezekiah,  and  Jo^ 
siah,  and  prove  reformers  of  their  people,  as  well  ds  nursing 
fathers  of  the  church;  for  governors,  in  all  the  distant  prov- 
inces of  our  own  and  other  empires,  disinterested,  zealous, 
and  unimpeachable,  like  Daniel  and  Nehemiah;  for  bishops, 
throughout  the  church,  like  Timothy  and  Titus." — Indeed 
the  subject  of  his  remarkable  spirit  of  intercessory  prayer 
must  hereafter  be  again  adverted  to.  Here,  therefore,  I 
would  conclude  with  remarking  upon  the  whole,  that  to  his 
constant  and  edifying  observance  of  family  worship,  in  con 
nexion  with  the  steady,  consistent  spirit  and  conduct,  which, 
notwithstandmg  imperfections  incident  to  human  nature, 
.  they  could  not  fail  to  remark  in  him,  is,  I  am  persuaded, 
very  much  to  be  traced,  not  only  the  blessing  of  God  which, 
I  trust,  has  descended  on  his  own  family,  but  the  further 
striking  and  important  fact, — that  in  very  few  insta<(ices  has 


62  CHANGE    OF   HIS  [Chap.  IV, 

a  servant,  or  a  young  person,  or  indeed  any  person,  passed 
any  length  of  time  under  his  roof,  without  appearing  to 
be  brought  permanently  under  the  influence  of  rehgious 
principle.  I  consider  him  as  having  been  singularly  bles- 
sed in  this  respect.  And  yet  it  was  not  much  his  practice 
to  address  himself  closely  and  minutely,  as  some  have  done 
tvith  very  good  effect,  to  such  persons  individually.  It  was 
not  so  much  by  preaching  directly  to  them,  as  by  living 
before  them;  making  an  edifying  use  of  incidents  and  occa- 
sions; and  being  so  constantly  instructive,  devout,  and  be- 
nevolent in  family  worship;  that,  under  the  blessing  of 
Ood,  he  produced  so  striking  an  impression  upon  them. 
This  added  tenfold  force  to  whatever  else  they  heard  fron> 
him  in  his  public  ministrations. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE   GREAT    CHANGE    OF    HIS    RELIGIOUS    VIEWS 

"Within  a  few  months  after  my  marriage,  I  was  led  unex- 
pectedly to  exchange  my  curacy  of  Stoke  for  that  of  Ra- 
venstone,  the  next  village.  This  was  done  at  the  instance 
ef  the  vicar  of  the  latter  place,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Chapman,  an 
unmarried  man,  seventy  years  of  age.  He  had  hitherto 
kept  no  curate,  but  had  occasionally  applied  to  me  lor 
assistance:  and  now,  as  he  wished  to  engage  one,  and  I  was 
at  this  time  reputable,  and  not  suspected  of 'methodism,'  he 
offered  me  his  curacy,  with  a  salary  of  40/.  a  year;  15/. 
more  than  I  received  for  Stoke.  The  reason  of  his  change 
of  plan  was  unknown  to  me  at  the  time;  but  I  afterwards 
found  it  to  be  a  very  considerable  accession  of  fortune, 
which  had  come  to  him  in  rather  a  singular  manner.  A 
distant  relation,  a  retail  grocer  in  London,  had,  by  saving 
habits,  amassed  about  12,000/.  On  the  approach  of  death, 
he  sent  for  Mr.  Charles  Higgins,  (one  of  the  Weston  family, 
and  afterwards  Sheriff  of  London,)  the  head  partner  in  the 
wholesale  house  with  which  he  had  dealt,  and  proposed  to 
leave  the  whole  to  him.  Mr.  H.,  being  a  man  of  much 
generosity  of  mind,  resolutely  refused  to  accept  it:  and 
urged  that  it  ought  to  go  to  the  relations,  however  distant. 
The  man,  however,  declared  that  he  would  die  intestate,  if 
Mr.  H.  would  not  become  his  heir:  and  he  kept  his  word. 


1773—1777.]         RELIGIOUS    VIEWS.  63 

In  consequence,  after  engaging  in  some  litigation,  and  buy- 
ing off  some  individuals  who  might  have  been  trouble- 
some, the  vicar  of  Ravenstone,  with  his  sister,  a  maiden 
lady,  still  more  advanced  in  age,  who  lived  with  him,  in- 
herited the  whole  property.  On  the  proposition  which  he 
made  to  me,  all  advance  of  salary  at  Stoke  being  declined, 
I  became  his  curate." 

My  father  removed  to  Ravenstone  soon  after  Midsummer, 
1775;  but  this  was  previously  to  his  becoming  curate  of 
the  parish. 

''At  this  place,"  he  says,  "I  resided  about  two  years,  and 
it  proved,  as  it  were,  a  Bethel^  to  me.  Here  I  read  the 
scriptures  and  prayed.  Here  I  sought  and,  I  trust,  found, 
in  a  considerable  measure,  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  as  it 
is  in  Jesus,  I  was  not  indeed  brought  to  say  with  unwa- 
vering voice,  as  Thomas  did  of  old.  My  Lord^  and  my  God; 
but  I  learned  to  count  all  hut  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the 
knowledge  of  Christ,  Here  first  I  was  made  the  instrument 
of  bringing  several  persons  earnestly  to  ask  the  all-impor- 
tant question.  What  must  I  do  to  he  saved?  and  here  I  learn- 
ed, in  some  degree,  to  give  the  scriptural  answer,  Believe 
in  the  Lord  .Testis  Christ,,  and  thou  shalt  he  saved.''"' 

Alluding  to  this  period,  he  observed  in  a  sermon  preach- 
ed at  Aston,  June  25,  1818,  of  which  the  Rev.  Daniel  Wil- 
son has  preserved  and  printed  some  memorandums:  "It  is 
above  forty  years  since  God  of  his  mercy  brought  down  my 
stubborn  heart  to  true  repentance.  The  first  sermon  I 
preached  afterwards  was  from  Gal.  iii,  22,  But  the  Scripture 
hath  concluded  all  under  sin,,  that  the  promise  by  faith  of  Jesus 
Christ  might  he  given  to  them  that  helieve.  This  very  dis- 
course was  the  means  of  bringing  some  of  my  people  to 
feel  their  danger,  and  to  come  to  me  saying,  What  shall  I 
do  to  be  saved?  when  I  hardly  knew  how  to  answer  the 
question.  Begin,  my  brethren,  and  continue  in  the  same 
way.  Shew  the  people  thsit  they  are  concluded  under  sin. 
Tell  them  plainly  of  their  lost  condition.  Till  they  feel 
this,  nothing  is  done.  Then  exhibit  to  them  the  promise  by 
faith  of  Jesus  Christ:  this  will  heal  the  broken  heart." 

He  proceeds:  "I  did  not  however,  in  my  own  case,  enter 
so  deeply  into  the  practical  use  of  the  truths  to  which  I 
acceded,  as  might  have  been  expected;  but,  in  many  things 
which  I  have  since  considered  as  wholly  indefensible,  I  con- 

•  Gen.  xxvlii. 


64  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [Chap.  IV. 

formed  to  the  world,  and,  by  so  doing",  was,  in  great  meas- 
ure, sheltered  from  scorn  and  reproach.  But  in  tliese 
things  the  narrative  in  the  'Force  of  Truth,'  from  April, 
177d,  to  about  the  saihe  period  of  1777,  must  be  referred 
to. 

'''Here  likewise  my  two  eldest  children  were  born,  Anne, 
who  died  at  the  age  of  four  years  and  a  half,  and  of  whom 
further  notice  will  be  hereafter  taken;  and  John,  still 
living." 

Soon  after  his  removal  to  Ravenstone,  we  find  him  thus 
anticipating  the  death  of  another  married  sister. 

"Though  I  was  somewhat  concerned  for  you,  yet  this 
was  all  absorbed  in  the  concern  I  have  always  felt  on  my 
poor  sister  Gibbons's  account,  whenever  I  have  thought  of 
her  since  I  received  your  letter.  I  can  never  reflect  on  her 
fate,  and  the  cause  of  it,  without  the  most  feeimg  anxiety. 
I  have  long  thought  of  writing  to  her,  but  have  been 
hindered  by  the  supposition  of  my  letter  finding  her  de- 
parted from  this  troublesome  scene.  .  .  .  May  the  Almighty 

supply  her  with  a  plentiful  portion   of  his  grace,  &c 

This  most  sincere  and  earnest  prayer  I  do  not  fail  daily  to 
present  at  the  throne  of  grace." 

Ravenstone,  it  may  be  observed,  was  always  the  favorite 
scene  of  my  father's  ministerial  services.  Here  he  enjoy- 
ed greater  comfort,  and  here  more  visible  success  attend- 
ed his  pastoral  labors,  in  proportion  to  the  time  of  their 
continuance,  than  in  any  subsequent  situation.  "Here,"  he 
says,  in  another  part  of  the  narrative,  which  may  more 
conveniently  be  introduced  in  this  place,  "a  considerable 
number  of  persons,  who  had  previously  been  ignorant  and 
careless  about  religion,  became  consistent  and  zealous 
Christians;  and  a  general  seriousness  and  attention  were 
excited,  beyond  any  thing  which  I  have  since  witnessed." 
This  account,  however^  of  his  usefulness  at  Ravenstone, 
takes  in  not  only  the  period  of  his  residence  there,  but 
that  also  of  his  subsequent  residence  at  Weston,  till  the  year 
1781,  during  which  time  lie  retained  the  curacy  of  Raven- 
stone. 

The  progress  of  his  mind  at  the  important  period  which 
has  been  mentioned,  from  the  spring  of  the  year  1775  to 
that  of  1777,  is  so  amply,  and  in  so  satisfactory  a  manner, 
detailed  in  the  'Force  of  Truth,'  that  I  should  have  con- 
tented myself,  as  he  has  done,  with  merely  referring  the 
reader  to  that  work,  were  it  not  for  the  very  interesting 


1775— 1 777. J  RELIGIQUS  VIEWS.  65 

additional  lights  which  his  letters  to  his  sisters,  now  in  my 
hands,  throw  on  certain  principal  points  of  the  history. 
For  the  sake  of  properly  introducing  them,  1  shall  make 
some  extracts  from  the  work  just  mentioned. 

"It  was  at  this  time  that  my  correspondence  with  Mr. 
Newton  commenced.  At  a  visitation,  May,  1775,  we  ex- 
changed a  few  words  on  a  controverted  subject,  in  the 
room  among  the  clergy,  which  I  believe  drew  many  eyes 
upon  us.  At  that  time  he  prudently  declined  the  <iiscourse, 
but  a  day  or  two  after  he  sent  me  a  short  note,  with  a  little 
book  for  my  perusal.  This  was  the  very  thing  I  wanted, 
and  I  gladly  embraced  the  opportunity,  which,  accord- 
ing to  my  wishes,  seemed  now  to  offer; — God  knoweth, 
with  no  inconsiderable  expectations,  that  my  arguments 
would  prove  irresistibly  convincing,  and  that  I  should 
have  the  honor  of  rescuing  a  well-meaning  person  from 
his  enthusiastical  delusions.  ...  I  wrote  him  a  long  let- 
ter, purposing  to  draw  frotti  him  such  avowal  and  ex-^ 
planation  of  his  sentiments,  as  might  introduce  a  contro- 
versial discussion  of  our  religious  differences.  The  event 
by  no  means  answered  my  expectation:  he  returned  a  very 
friendly  and  long  answer  to  my  letter;  in  which  he  careful- 
ly avoided  the  mention  of  those  doctrines,  which  he 
knew  would  offend  me:  he  declared,  that  he  believed  me 
to  be  one  who  feared  God,  and  was  under  th^  teaching 
of  his  Holy  Spirit:  that  he  gladly  accepted  my  offer  of 
friendship,  and  was  no  ways  inclined  to  dictate  to  me; 
but  that,  leaving  me  to  the  guidance  of  the  Lord,  he 
would  be  glad,  as  occasion  served,  from  time  to  time,  to 
bcaf-  testimony  to  the  truths  of  the  gospel,  and  to  com- 
municate his  sentiments  to  me,  on  any  subject,  with  all 
the  confidence  of  friendship. 

'4n  this  manner  our  correspondence  began,  and  it  was 
continued,  in  the  interchange  of  nine  or  ten  letters,  until 
December  the  same  year.  Throughout  I  held  my  purpose, 
and  he  his.  1  made  use  of  every  endeavor  to  draw  him 
into  controversy,  and  filled  my  letters  with  definitions,  in* 
quiries,  arguments,  objections,  and  consequences,  requiring 
explicit  answers.  He,  on  the  other  hand,  shunned  every 
thing  controversial,  as  much  as  possible,  and  filled  his  letter* 
with  the  most  useful,  and  least  offensive  instructions,  except 
that  now  and  then  he  dropped  hints  concerning  the  neces- 
sit}^,  the  true  nature,  and  the  efficacy  of  faith,  and  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  was  to  be  sought,  and  obtained;  and  concern- 
*6 


ti'C  CHANGE  OF  HIS    ^  [Chap.  IV 

ing  some  other  matters,  suited  as  he  judged,  to  help  me  for- 
ward in  my  inquiry  after  truth.  But  they  very  much  offend* 
ed  my  prejudices,  afforded  me  matter  of  disputation,  and 
at  that  time  were  of  little  use  to  me.  .  .  .  When  I  could  not 
obtain  my  end,  at  my  instance  the  correspondence  was  drop- 
ped; ....  and  our  acquaintance  was,  for  a  season,  almost 
wholly  broken  off  For  a  long  time  we  seldom  met,  and 
then  only  interchanged  a  few  words  on  general  topics  of 
conversation.  Yet  he  all  along  persevered  in  telling  me, 
to  my  no  small  offence,  that  1  should  accede  one  day  to  his 
religious  principles;  that  he  had  stood  on  my  ground,  and 
that  I  should  stand  on  his:  and  he  constantly  informed  his 
friends,  that,  though  slowly,  I  was  surely  feeling  my  way  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  So  clearly  could  he  discern 
the  dawnings  of  grace  in  my  soul,  amidst  all  the  darkness  of 
depraved  nature,  and  my  obstinate  rebellion  against  the  will 
of  God  — This  expectation  was  principally  grounded  on  my 
conduct  in  the  following  circumstances.  Immediately  ai\ev 
the  commencement  of  our  correspondence,  in  May,  1775, 
whilst  my  thoughts  were  much  engrossed  by  some  hopes 
of  preferment;  one  Sundaj',  during  the  time  of  divine  service, 
when  the  psalm  was  named,  I  opened  the  prayer-book  to 
turn  to  it:  but  (^accidentally  sh^W  I  say,  or  providentially?)  I 
opened  upon  the  Articles  of  Religion;  and  the  eighth,  re- 
specting the  authority  and  warrant  of  the  Athanasian  creed, 
immediately  engaged  my  attention.  My  disbelief  of  the 
doctrine  of  a  trinity  of  coequal  persons  in  the  unity  of  the 
Godhead,  and  my  prefeDS-ons  to  candor,  both  combined  to 
excite  my  hatred  to  this  creed:  for  which  reasons,  I  had 
been  accustomed  to  speak  of  it  with  contempt,  and  to  neg- 
lect reading  it  officially.  No  sooner  therefore  did  I  read  the 
word^,'That  it  was  to  be  thoroughly  received,  and  believed: 
for  thait  it  might  be  proved  by  most  certain  warrants  of  holy 
scripture;'  than  my  mind  was  greatly  impressed  and  affected. 
The  matter  of  subscription  immediately  occurred  to  my 
thoughts,  and  from  that  moment  I  conceived  such  scruples 
about  it,  that,  till  my  view  of  the  whole  system  of  Christian- 
ity was  entirely  changed,  they  remained  insuperable 

At  length,  after  a  violent  conflict  between  interest  and  con- 
science, I  made  known  to  my  patron  my  scruples,  and  my 
determination  not  to  subscribe.  Thus  my  views  of  prefer- 
ment were  deliberately  given  up,  and  with  an  increasing 
family  1  was  left,  as  far  as  mere  human  prudence  could  dis- 
cern, with  little  other  prospect  than  that  of  .poverty  aad 


1775^1777.]         RELIGIOUS  VIEWS.  67 

distress.  My  objections  to  the  Articles  were,  as  I  now  see, 
groundless;  much  self-sufficiency,  undue  warmth  of  temper, 
and  obstinacy,  were  betrayed  in  the  management  of  this 
affair,  for  which  I  ought  to  be  humbled.  But  my  adherence 
to  the  dictates  of  my  conscience,  and  holding  fast  my  in- 
tegrity in  such  trying  circumstances,  1  never  did,  and,  I 
trust,  never  shall  repent." 

Letters  written  in  the  crisis  of  such  a  conflict,  which  is 
known  to  have  had  such  an  issue,  and  laying  open  the 
whole  soul  of  the  writer,  cannot  fail  to  interest  any  one, 
who  takes  pleasure  in  studying  the  workings  of  the  human 
mind,  and  the  operations  of  divine  grace  upon  the  heart. 
And  such  are  the  letters  which  \  now  proceed  to  lay  before 
the  reader:  only  premising,  that  Mr.  Newton's  corres- 
pondence with  my  father  commences  with  this  very  ques- 
tion of  subscription,  and  that,  from  a  passage  in  the  manu- 
script of  his  first  letter,  omitted  in  the  printed  copies,  it 
appears,  that  my  father  had  informed  him  of  his  having 
published,  or  at  least  transmitted  for  publication,  the  papei" 
which  will  be  found  here  reterred  to. 

The  following  is  an  extract  of  a  letter  from  my  fathei* 
to  his  elder  sister  dated  at  Stoke,  July  12,  1775 — in  the 
interval  between  Mr.  N.'s  tirst  and  second  letters  to  him. 

"Both  from  information  of  what  passes  around  me  and 
my  own  experience,  I  am  convinced  that  this  is  a  fluctuat- 
ing scene  of  restless  agitation;  and  that  the  only  way  to 
enjoy  any  tolerable  degree  of  comfort,  is  by  a  constant  en- 
deavor to  keep  a  conscience  void  of  ojfence^  and  to 
attain  to  something  of  an  indifference  in  regard  to  this 
world,  fully  trusting  in  God,  that  he  will  make  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  fear  him,  and  endeavor 

before  all  things  to  obey  him As  this  is  written  to  one 

that  knows  what  trouble  is,  .  . .  so  is  it  written  hy  one,  who, 
among  blessings  which  he  has  received  frofft  the  God  of 
goodness,  has  also  experienced  troubles,  and  does  so  yei; 
and  is  now  more  likely  than  ever  to  meet  with  trials,  more 

than  in  general  fall  to  "the  share  of  man. We  should 

learn  to  place  a  more  firm  and  steady  dependence  on  the 
wisdom  and  goodness  of  our  heavenly  friend  and  father, 
and  more  firmly  to  believe  those  promises  he  has  made  us; 
so  as  not  to  be  driven  from  our  confidence  in  the  day  of 
trial  and  gloomy  disappointment,  being  assured  that  he  will 
never  forsake  us,  if  we  forsake  not  him.  ...  As  Christians 
we  should  remember  that  troubles  are  the  touchstone  of 


08  CHANGE   OF    HIS  [Cuap.  IV, 

our  faith,  patience,  meekness,  and  resignation;  and,  if  well 
supported,  will  work  for  us   a  more   exceeding  Tsoeight  of 

glory 

"I  now  turn  to  my  own  affairs.  I  had  rather  not  speak 
concerning  them  but  for  two  things:  first,  lest  you  should 
hear  of  them  from  others;  and,  second,  lest  you  should 
think  I  had  not  that  confidence  in  you  that  I  have  in  others, 
I  know  I  cannot  speak  of  them  without  saying  a  great  deal, 
and  perhaps  at  last  without  saying  so  much  as  to  excuse  me 
in  your  mind  from  censure. — I  have  had  too  ambitious  and 
interested  views,  and  have  placed  my  expectations  and  de-» 
sires  too  much  on  the  emoluments  of  the  ministry,  and  too 
little  on  the  labors.  In  my  studies  and  schemes  I  have  more 
anxiously  consulted  by  what  means  I  might  advance  my- 
self, than  how  I  might  make  myself  useful  as  a  minister  of 
the  gospel.  But  it  has  pleased  providence,  that,  by  means 
of  those  very  studies  on  which  I  founded  my  hopes  of  ad- 
vancement, but  which  have  been  carried  on  in  a  direction 
much  different  than  I  intended,  I  have  arrived  at  a  disposi- 
tion of  heart,  and  a  train  of  thinking,  which  are  totally  in- 
compatible with  all  my  hopes  of  preferment.  In  one  word, 
I  have  discovered  the  importance  of  that  trust  which  is 
committed  to  me;  what  is  the  extent  of  that  duty  it  requires; 
4Mid  how  it  ought  to  be  performed:  and  I  find  it  something  in- 
conceivably different  from  what  one  would  suppose  itjtobe, 
from  the  too  general,  and  well  nigh  universal  conduct  of 
those  to  whom  it  is  committed.  I  have  also  discovered  what 
true  unadulterated  Christianity  is,  and  find  it  not  exactly 
what  even  our  creeds  and  articles  represent  it.  I  have  ar- 
rived, in  point  of  conscience,  at  perhaps  an  unnecessary 
scrupulousness,  insomuch  that  I  cannot,  either  through  hopes 
of  gain  and  favor,  or  through  fear  of  loss  and  censure,  do  a 
thing  that  my  heart  disapproves.  I  have  arrived  at  a  critical 
nicety  in  examining  and  weighing  expressions,  and  compar- 
ing one  thing  with  another,  which  1  endeavored  to  attaift 
as  a  step  to  advancement;  but  the  supreme  Director  has 
turned  it  into  an  insurmountable  obstacle.  Within  sight,  as 
it  wete,  of  preferment,  I  have  m(}t  with  what  has  put  a 
period  to  my  present  expectations,  and  has  caused  me 
fortnally  to  renounce  them." — He  then  states  his  disappro- 
bation of  many  things  in  the  Articles,  and  particularly  h\s 
utter  repugnance  to  the  Athanasian  creed,  both  its  doctnne 
and  its  damnatory  clauses;  and  then  proceeds:  "This  is  the 
trial  that  is  now  upon  me.     If  by  subscription  be  meant  au 


1775—1777.]         RfiLlGIOUS    VIEWS.  69 

avowed  assent  to  the  truth  of  every  proposition  contained 
in  what  we  subscribe,  I  can  never  subscribe  these  Articles, 
without  tilling  a  most  audacious  lie  in  the  face  of  God,  in  a 
solemn  and  important  matter  of  religion,  for  the  sake  of 
sordid  lucre.  Such  a  lie  would  wound  my  conscience,  and 
forfeit  His  favor,  in  whose  favor  is  life:  and  riches  would 
make  me  but  poor  amends.  On  the  other  hand,  if  I  resolve 
not  to  subscribe,  I  must  at  present  renounce  all  my  aspiring 
hopes,  and  be  content  to  be  a  poor,  and  perhaps  despised,  cu- 
rate, and  censured  into  the  bargain.  But  yet  this  is  the  far 
better  side  of  the  question;  for  God  has  promised,  and  I  dare 
believe,  that  he  that  seeketh  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his 
righteousness^  shall  be  supplied  with  what  He  sees  that  he 
wants:  that  he,  who  leaves  any  worldly  treasure /or  his  sake 
and  the  gospePs,  shall  be  amply  rewarded  even  in  this  life: 
and  that  him,  who  is  7iot  ashamed  of  Christy  and  of  his  words^ 
he  will  not  be  ashamed  to  own;  and  the  contrary.  I  have 
therefore  chosen  this  side  of  the  question,  and  hope  by  God's 
assistance  to  persevere  therein. — But,  should  preferment  be 
offered,  I  shall  venture  to  ask,  whether  the  above  be  the 
right  definition  of  subscription  or  not.  If  they  mean  any 
thing  else,  and  will  say  so — I  mean,  that  a  man  may  sub- 
scribe without  beUeving  every  part — I  then  could  subscribe. 
It  is  true,  subscription  would  be  then  a  farce:  but  that  is 

their  business But,  by  the  unaccountable  conduct  of 

Mr.  W.,  the  affair  is  noised  so  much  abroad,  that  I  do  not 
suppose  I  shall  ever  have  an  offer:  nor  do  I  desire  it.  I  am 
at  present  very  composed,  and  resigned  to  my  disappoint- 
ment; and  only  wish  for  a  rather  better  curacy,  in  a  parish 
where  I  could  Uve,  and  spend  my  whole  time  in  the  duties 
of  my  function. — At  first  I  was  sadly  agitated,  which  was  in- 
creased by  the  warm  censures  I  received.  In  addition  to 
other  things,  I  doubt  I  have  in  part  lost  Mr.  W.'s  favor. 
But  that  God  in  whom  I  trust,  and  in  obedience  to  whom  I 
act,  can  raise  me  up  another  and  better  friend.  He  has  sup- 
ported me  hitherto,  and  has  brought  my  mind  to  a  depend- 
ence on  him:  and  I  do  not  fear  that  he  will  leave  me  desti- 
tute  I  have  but  80/.  a  year  in  ail,  (including  payment  for 

the  tuition  of  Master  Wrighte,)  and  it  is  not  very  improbable 
that  I  may  get  a  curacy  of  that  value  alone,  as  1  do  not 
mind  what  confinement  it  brings,  nor  how  much  work  I 
do,  ...  .  Besides,  I  deem  it  my  duty  (could  I  do  it,)  to  con- 
fine   myself  entirely  to  my  office   as   a  minister,  which, 


70  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [Chap.  IV, 

whatever  people  may  think,  is  employment  sufficient  for 
.^ny  man,  when  it  is  duly  discharged." 

The  following  is  to  his  younger  sister,-  (afterwards 
Mrs.  Ford,)  dated  the  next  day,  July  13,  1775. 

"Dear  Sister,  Amidst  a  hurry  of  concerns,  I  under- 
take to  write  an  answer  to  your  kind  letter:  but  can 
never  answer  it  in  any  thing  of  a  correct  manner,  as 
my  head  is  full  of  thoughts,  and  my  heart  of  cares.  As 
to  the  affair  which  engrossed  my  last,  I  can  say  but  lit- 
tle, lest  1  should  again  fill  my  sheet  about  it.  Every 
day  more  firmly  convinces  me,  that  my  cause  is  the 
cause  of  truth,  and  makes  me  more  resolved  to  adhere 
to  it  at  all  adventures,  confiding  in  God  Almighty  for 
support  and  assistance.  I  mean,  that  I  will  never  pur- 
chase preferment  at  the  price  of  subscription — if  by  sub- 
scription he  meant  an  avowed  assent  to  the  truth  of 
every  proposition  contained  in  the  thirty-nine  Articles. 
If  those  who  require  subscription  will  put  any  more  fa- 
vorable construction  upon  it,  that  may  alter  the   case. 

"Since  I  wiote  my  Idst,  I  have  had  severe  trials,  of 
which  I  must  give  a  brief  account.  I  wrote  a  letter  with 
the  intention  to  publish  it,  which  I  resolved  first  to  shew 
Mrs.  W.,  as  I  thought  it  was  using  Mr.  W.  ill,  if  I  did  not 
make  known  my  resolution  to  him,  that  he  might  not  trou- 
ble himself  further  on  my  account.  Accordingly  I  did  let 
her  see  it:  and  the  consequence  was,  that  for  several  days 
I  was  almost  baited  out  of  my  life.  All  manner  of  accusa- 
tions were  heaped  upon  me: — vanity,  hypocrisy,  obstinacy, 
&c.  I  was  tempted  on  one  hand  with  hopes,  and  alarmed 
on  the  other  with  fears.  Even  starving  was  mentioned. 
But  such  arguments  were  made  use  of,  as  shewed  me  the 
weakness  of  the  cause  that  needed  them.  Conscience,  re- 
ligion. Providence,  a  future  scene,  were  all  made  a  mere  jest 
of  But  I  was  bold,  and  did  not  betray  the  cause  of  God  and 
religion,  but  preached  them  some  such  sermons,  (I  mean  in 
conversation,)  as  they  never  had  before  heard,  I  think. 
However  the  letter  was  sent,  but  not  published;  which  I 
cannot  account  for,  as  I  desired  the  printer  to  send  it  back 
if  he  did  not  choose  to  publish  it.  But,  strange  to  tell, 
these  very  persons  who  opposed  my  publishing — which, 
among  bad  consequences  might  have  produced  good  ones^ 
(as  every  body  allowed  the  letter  to  be  unanswerable,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  modest  and  decent,  and  such  as  would  in 
some  measure   apologise  for  itself,) — these  very  persons 


^   1776— iir77.]  RELIGIOUS  VIEWS.  71 

'  spread  the  report  all  over  the  country,  so  that  no  one  can 
be  ignorant  of  my  sentime»ts  and  resolutions;  yet  none  has 
the  opportunity  of  seeing  the  reasons,  on  which  they  are 
grounded,  fairly  stated — At  the  same  time  I  gave  consider- 
able offence  by  my  endeavors   to   preserve  a   degree    of 
authority  over  my  pupil,  which  occasioned  some  disagree- 
able circumstances. — These  censures,  added  to  the  trial  of 
relinquishing   all    my    fond    hopes,   and    renouncing    my 
worldly  interests,  and   aggravated  by  all  the  terrors,  by 
which,  in  the  day  of  trial,  every  thing  is  magnified,  was  well 
nigh   more  than  I  could  bear.     But  by   God    Almighty's 
assistance,  to  whom  I  applied  for  direction  and  support,  in 
a  manner  that,  I  hope,  was  acceptable  through  his   mercy, 
I  soon  composed  my  agitated   mind,  and  reduced  it  into  a 
state  of  resigned  acquiescence  in  his  will,  and  trust  in  his 
promises. ...  In  adherence  to  the  cause  which  I  think  good, 
1  am  ready  to  resign   all  my    worldly  expectations,  and  to 
sell  all  that  I  have,  take  up  my  cross,  and  follow  my  Lord  and 
Master* — To  this  state  of  calm  composure  I  arrived  chiefly 
by  reading  the  Gospels,  and  supposing  the  promises  therein 
!  contained  addressed  to  me  by  divine  veracity:  and  1  have  by 
=  that  means,  joined  with  prayer  to   God  for  direction  and 
i  assistance,  arrived  at  that  state  of  mind,  as  to  be  ready  te 
give  up  all  my  aspiring  thoughts,  and  to  content  myself  to 
serve  God  in  the  humble  condition  of  a  curate,  if  such  be 
i  his   will:  though   I    cannot,  nor  can  all  the  world,  exclude 
I  me  so  effectually  from  preferment,  but  that  God  can  give  it 
i  me,  if  he  sees  good.      This  advantage    I  most  certainly 
i  reaped  from  it,  that  it  has  caused  me  more  carefully  to  ex- 
amine the  holy  scriptures,  and  to  turn  my  thoughts  more  to 
'  these  subjects,  and  to  the  consideration  of  that  important 
j  trust,  which  is  committed  to  me,  and  how  I  may  discharge 
it,  so  as,  while  I  preach  to  others,   I  may  not  be  myself  a 
cast-away.     This  has  been  a  most  valuable  acquisition,  as 
I  was   before    too    apt    to   judge    by  comparison,    and  to 
I  think  I  did  enough  if  I  did  rather  more  than  others:  but 
I  now  I  find  that,  as  I  have  been  solemnly  dedicated  to  the 
I  service  of  God  and  religion,  I  can  never  do  enough,  so 
I  long  as  I  leave  any  thing  undone,  which  it  was  in  my  pow- 
l^r  to  do,  towards  the  growth  of  religious  knowledge,  and 
I  virtuous  practice. — I  have    found    that  those,    who  enter 
I  the  ministry  for  the  sa^ke  of  the  riches,  and  honors,  and 
1  indulgences  thereby  to  be  obtained,  are  guilty  of  a  most 
j«ggravated  crime:  and  that  a  zeal  for  the  propagation  of 


n  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [Chap.  IV. 

the  Gospel  and  the  salvation  of  souls;  a  willingness  to  un- 
dertake any  labors,  and  an  alacrity  in  undergoing  them; 
a  ready  submission  to  inconvenience,  and  a  constancy 
amidst  difficulties;  being  capable  even  of  bearing  con- 
tempt and  censure,  or  poverty,  when  laid  in  the  way  of 
our  duty;  a  warm  benevolence;  and  that  kind  of  humil- 
ity, which  can  condescend  to  the  meanest  offices  for  the 
sake  of  doing  good;  are  the  indispensable  dispositions  for 
a  faithful  mmister  of  the  gospel.  We  are  to  live  at  the 
altar:  but  a  livings  a  bare  decent  maintenance,  without 
any  avaricious  or  ambitious  views  of  advancing  ourselves 
or  our  families,  or  hankering  after  indulgences,  should 
content  us.  We  are  required  to  set  an  example  of  moder- 
ation, and  trust  in  God  and  his  promisesj.-.of  heavenly  mind- 
edness;  laying  up  our  treasures  in  heaven;  setting  our  affec- 
tions on  things  above;  having  food  and  raiment  being  there- 
with content;  in  order  that,  with  the  greater  advantage, 
we  may,  as  we  are  in  duty  bound,  inculcate  these  things  on 
our  flocks; — all  this  I  have  learned,  or  confirmed  to  myself, 
and  have,  by  God's  grace,  fixed  my  resolution  to  endeavor 
to  attain.  And,  being  assured  that,  if  I  do  so,  he  will  never 
leave  me  destitute,  I  am  perfectly  contented,  as  far  as  re- 
lates to  this  affair,  only  desiring  that  I  may  be  able  to  pe|t 
severe  in  my  duty,  and,  with  an  entire  dependence,  leaving 
the  further  disposal  of  my  concerns  to  God." 

My  last  extract  is  from  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Webster,  dated 
Ravenstonc,  October  15,  1775.  In  "what  you  say  of  my 
religious  scruples,  you  seem  in  several  errors  concerning 
me  and  ray  conduct,  which  I  must  endeavor  to  rectify.  You 
seem  afraid  I  should  lose  all  this  world's  goods.  Remember 
our  Savior's  words,  Whosoever  he  be  that  forsaketh  not  all 
that  he  hath  he  cannot  be  my  disciple:  that  is,  if  he  be  not 
ready  to  forsake  all  that  he  hath,  when  his  duty  requires  it. 
Not  that  I  have  any  reason  to  apprehend  I  am  likely  to  be 
put  to  that  severe  trial.  Thanks  to  the  Almighty,  my  cir- 
cumstances mend,  my  friends  multiply,  and  I  have  reason 
to  think  that  my  reputation,  as  a  faithful  minister,  increas- 
es rather  than  dimmishes, — if  one  may  judge  by  external 
respect,  civilities,  and  favors.  Not  that  I  am  so  far  ruled  in 
my  opinion  of  myself  by  what  others  judge  of  me,  as  to  be 
reconciled  to  my  faults  because  they  are  willing  to  pardon 
them.  My  conscience  must  be  my  judge  in  this  world,  and  my 
Savior  in  the  next:  and  to  them  I  appeal  for  the  rectitude  of 
mf  intentions.   But  even  were  I  to  be  put  to  the  trial  of  losing; 


1^75—1777.]  RELIGIOUS  VIEWS.  73 

all  my  worldly  goods,  let  me  ask  you,  would  you  h^ve  me 
follow  the  exHQiple  of  the  young  man  in  the  Gospel,  who, 
sorrowing,  left  Christ,  rather  than  part  with  his  large  pos- 
sessions? What  think  you  of  what  out  Lord  says.  But  seekye 
FIRST  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness^  and  all  othef 
things  shall  be  added  unto  you?  Dare  you  believe  this 
promise  or  not?  I  Dare:  and  will  act  accordingly,  by  God's 
assistance.  As  to  what  you  argue  of  my  family,  &c.  I 
will  take  every  honest  precaution  to  provide  for  them: 
and  1  dare  confidently  submit  ihe  event  to  God,  without  Once 
distrusting  his  veracity  and  goodness.  Nor  will  I  ever  vio- 
late   my  conscience  to   provide  for  my  family:  at  least  I 

hope  I   never  shall Were  I  in  your  condition,  as  a 

private  Christian,  the  subjects  of  my  scruples  would  give 
me  no  concern:  and  I  join  in  the  whole  liturgy  of  the 
church,  some  very  few  things  excepted,  with  the  highest 
satisl'action. — As  to  my  preaching,  1  neither  preach  for  or 
against  any  human  inventions.  The  word  of  God,  is  my  sub- 
ject, and  my  rule;  and  my  preaching,  I  may  venture  to  say,  is 
more  calculated  to  satisfy  than  to  raise  doubts  and  scruples. 
Without  preferment  I  may  live,  and  live  comfortably  and 
happily:  but  without  a  clear  conscience  I  cannot.  I  am  a 
minister  of  the  church  of  England,  and  hope  to  continue 
90,  as  I  prefer  her  liturgy,  her  discipline,  and  her  doctrine^ 
to  that  of  any  other  society  of  Christians  in  the  universe: 
and  if,  by  subscribing  her  Articles,  they  will  declare  they 
mean  no  more  than  such  a  preference,  I  will  subscribe: 
but,  if  they  mean  by  subscription  an  implicit  belief  of  ail 
their  doctrines,  it  is  a  price  I  will  not  pay  for  preferment. 
....  Mr.  Lindsay  I  think  in  many  dangerous  errors,  and  I 
am  sorry  my  father  has  got  his  book." 

All  this  appears  to  me  to  present  as  fine  an  exhibition^ 
in  proportion  to  the  stage  on  which  it  was  passing,  as  can, 
perhaps,  be  pointed  out  since  the  days  of  Luther,  of  a  maa 
resolutely  takiag  the  right  side  in  a  severe  case  of  that  con- 
flict, which  is  continually,  in  one  form  or  other,  carrying 
on  in  the  world,  between  conscience  and  present  interest; 
and  in  which  so  few  are  proof  against  the  various  assaults 
that  temptation  makes  upon  them.  These  letters  demon- 
strate that,  though  the  writer  was  yet  far  from  having  ob- 
tained just  views  of  Christian  doctrines;  even  of  those  doc- 
trines which  are  most  essential  to  the  formation  of  the 
Christian  spirit  and  character;  he  yet  had  received  that 
great  principle  of  "obedience  to  the  faith,"  which  was 
fmre,  under  the  divine  blessing,  ultimately  to  bring  him 
-7 


74  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [Chap.  IV. 

right;  to  lead  him  to  the  reception  of  every  truth,  and  to 
suhmission  to  every  duty,  as  they  might  be  successively 
brought  home  to  his  conviction.  Indeed  almost  all  the 
great  lineaments  of  my  father's  subsequent  character  are 
here  presented  to  us  in  embryo,  or  indeed  in  a  stage  of  con- 
siderable developement: — his  decision  and  boldness — his 
inflexible  integrity — his  acknowledgment  of  God  in  all  his 
ways — his  firm  faith  in  His  word,  and  his  providence — his 
superiority  to  the  world — his  exalted  views  of  the  service 
which  Christ  requires  of  us,  especially  in  the  sacred  minis- 
try;— views,  be  it  observed,  which,  however  familiar  they 
may  be  to  any  of  us,  open  upon  him  with  all  the  air  and 
impression  of  a  new  discovery.  Let  a  few  sentences  be 
recalled  to  the  readt^r's  notice: — "It  has  pleased  providence, 
that,  by  means  of  those  very  studies,  on  which  I  founded 
my  hopes  of  advancement,  1  have  arrived  at  what  is  totally 
incompatible  with  it.  The  supreme  Director  has  turned 
it  into  an  insurmountable  obstacle. — This  is  the  far  better 
side  of  the  question" — namely,  poverty,  contempt,  censure, 
with  a  good  conscience. — '4  have  chosen  this  side,  and 
hope  by  God's  assistance  to  persevere  therein. — I  will 
never  violate  my  conscience  to  provide  for  my  family;  at 
least,  I  hope  I  never  shall. — Without  preferment  I  may 
live,  and  live  happily;  but  without  a  clear  conscience  I 
cannot. — I  was  bold,  and  did  not  betray  the  cause  of  God. — 
Would  you  have  me  follow  the  example  of  the  young  man 
in  the  gospel?  God  hath  promised  and  I  dare  believe  him. — 
Dare  you  believe  his  promise?  I  dare:  and  by  his  assistance 
will  act  accordingly. — I  do  not  fear  that  he  will  leave  me 
destitute. — By  reading  the  gospels,  with  prayer  to  God,  I 
have  arrived  at  that  state  of  mind,  as  to  be  ready  to  resign 
all  my  worldly  expectations,  and  to  sell  all  that  1  have,  take 
up  my  cross,  and  follow  my  Lord  and  Master  — I  have  dis- 
covered the  importance  of  that  trust  which  is  committed 
to  me;  what  is  the  extent  of  that  duty  it  requires;  and  how 
it  ought  to  be  performed:  and  I  find  it  inconceivably  differ- 
ent from  what  is  generally  supposed. — I  was  apt  to  judge 
by  comparisoh,  and  to  think  I  did  enough  if  I  did  rather 
more  than  others:  but  now  I  find  that,  as  1  have  been  sol- 
emnly dedicated  to  the  service  of  God  and  religion,  I  can 
never  do  enough,  so  long  as  I  leave  any  thing  undone,  which 
it  was  in  my  power  to  do,  towards  the  growth  of  religious 
knowledge  and  virtuous  practice. — We  are  to  live  at  the 
altar:  but  a  living,  a  bare  decent  maintenance,  without  any 


3775—1777.]         RELIGIOUS  VIEWS.  7S 

avaricious  or  ambitious  views  of  advancing  ourselves  or  our 
families,  or  hankering  after  indulgences,  should  content  us." 
I  must  be  pardoned  if  1  cannot  contemplate  with  mere 
calm  approbation  sentences  like  these,  not  artfully  arranged 

'to  ^erve  an  occasion,' 

but  whispered,  in  sincerity  of  heart,  where,  as  we  have  al- 
ready seen,  they  were  not  likely  to  be  received  with  ap- 
probation, and  where  there  was  no  prospect  of  their  ever 
emerging  to  public  notice: — sentences,  too,  accompanied 
with  unquestionable  marks  of  sobriety  of  mind  and  deliber- 
ate judgment;  expressive  of  a  severe  sacrifice  then  actual- 
ly taking  place;  and  conveying  sentiments  which,  after 
some  further  fluctuations  and  delays,  eventually  governed 
the  whole  future  life  of  their  author.  Surely  there  is 
something  in  them  which  bespeaks  even  the  Christian  hero. 
The  occasion,  indeed,  which  first  called  these  principles 
into  action,  was,  as  he  soon  afterwards  found,  a  fundamen- 
tal misconception  of  Christian  truths;  but  the  principles 
themselves  were  noble. — From  my  father's  conduct  at  this 
crisis,  Mr.  Newton  augured  well  of  him:  but  it  would  be  a 
very  small  part  of  what  is  now  before  us,  that  could  be  sub- 
mitted to  Mr.  N's.  observation.  Had  he  known  all  that 
passed,  he  might  well  have  anticipated  all  that  followed. 

The  comparative  poverty  in  which  my  father  spent  his 
days  has  been  lamented:  and  on  some  grounds  it  might 
justly  be  so:  but,  had  his  lot  been  materially  different,  is 
it  not  manifest  that  sentiments  like  the  above,  which  per- 
vade his  future  writings,  would  in  his  mouth  have  lost  more 
than  half  their  force? 

One  further  remark  suggests  itself.  No  one  I  should 
conceive  can  doubt,  especially  when  these  letters  are  view- 
ed in  connexion  with  what  subsequently  took  place,  that  the 
writer  of  them  was,  at  the  time,  praying  to  God  in  an  ac- 
ceptable manner,  as  well  as  profitably  reading  the  scrip- 
tures. The  right  use  of  prayer — making  God  our  refuge 
in  time  of  need— is  apparent  in  them;  and  the  genuine 
effect  of  true  prayer  follows,  which  is  composure  of  mind 
in  committing  events  to  God,  while  we  keep  the  path  of 
duty.  And  this  falls  in  with  a  persuasion  which  my  father 
always  entertained,  and  which  has  in  effect  been  already 
quoted  from  the  'Force  of  Truth,'  that  he  prayed  spiritu- 
ally, and  consequently  with  acceptance,  even  while,  to  a 
coBsiderable  degree,  involved  in  Socinian  errors.     No  doubt. 


76>  CHANGE  OF  HIS'  [Chap.  IV. 

in  saeh  a  case,  he  was  assisted  by  a  Spirit  which  he  did  ncjt 
confess,  and  accepted  through  a  Mediator,  of  whom,  as  yet, 
he  had  little  explicit  knowledge.  But  then,  let  it  be  ob- 
served, he  was  at  this  time  no  stationary  and  self-satisfied 
Socinian:  he  was  now  a  sincere  and  earnest  inquirer  after 
truth:  he  desired  "to  know,''  in  order  that  he  might  "do, 
the  will  of  God:"  he  had  already  received  that  impulse, 
which  was  ere  long  to  carry  him  far  off  from  the  Socinian 
ground.  And  accordingly  the  very  next  paragraph,  in  the 
'Force  of  Truth,'  to  those  which  are  quoted  as  an  introduc- 
tion to  the  above  letters,  informs  us,  that  the  result  of  his 
great  mental  conflict  was,  to  bring  him  "to  this  important 
determination:  not  so  to  believe  what  any  roan  said,  as  to 
take  it  upon  his  authority;  but  to  search  the  word  of  God 
with  this  single  intention,  to  discover  whether  the  Articles 
of  the  Church  of  England,  in  general,  and  the  Athanasian 
creed  in  particular,  were  or  were  not  agreeable  to  the 
scriptures."  And  hence  may  be  dated  that  deep  practical 
study  of  the  oracles  of  God,  with  constant  earnest  prayer 
for  divine  teaching;  and  that  entire  change  of  sentiments 
and  of  character,  resulting  from  it;  which  the  'Force  of 
Truth'  describes. — I  cherish,  not  with  a  superstitious,  yet 
certainly  with  a  sort  of  reverent  and  grateful  regard,  a 
fragment  of  that  Greek  Testament  in  which,  in  the  course 
of  these  inquiries,  my  father  read  and  deeply  meditated 
upon  every  part  of  that  volume  of  revelation;  spending 
usually,  as  I  have  heard  hi-m  say,  during  that  one  perusal, 
three  hours  upon  every  chapter:  frequently,  when  the 
weather  would  permit,  passing  this  time  in  the  park  of 
Weston  Underwood,  which  has  been  subsequently  immor- 
talized in  the  writings  of  Cowper. 

Before  we  return  to  the  narrative,  I  shall  here  introduce 
one  more  extract  of  a  letter,  shewing  his  views  of  some 
important  doctrinal  points.  Though  it  appears  from  the 
'Force  of  Truth,'  that  he  was  not  established  in  the  ortho- 
dox faith  concerning  the  Trinity  till  the  latter  part  of  the 
year  1777,  yet  he  wrote  as  follows  upon  some  topics,  appa- 
rently connected  with  it,  as  early  as  December  30,  1775. 
^'I  think  my  father's  books  lead  him  into  errors  of  consid-r 
erable  consequence:  but,  though  I  wish,  and  pray  to  God 
to  set  him  right,  yet  I  seem  very  unwilling  to  oifer  myself 
as  an  instrument.  The  error  1  mean  in  chief  is,  the  sup- 
position that  man  wanted  an  insinicior^  more  than  a  Savior: 
«?r.  in   other  words,  that  the  merits  of  Christ  were  not  so 


1775— 1777.}        RELIGIOUS   VIEWS.  S7t 

necessary  to  obtain  remission  of  sins,  as  his  instruction  was 
to  teach  us  the  way  of  righteousness.  But  this  is  contrary 
to  scripture.  Man,  every  man,  is  there  represented  as  a 
sinner,  as  in  bondage  to  sin  and  the  devil,  and  as  wanting 
redemption  from  them;  as  liable  to  punishment,  and  wanting 
salvation  from  it;  as  weak  and  frail,  and  wanting  the  divine 
assistance.  For  all  these  purposes  Jesus  came.  He  is 
therefore  our  Redeemer,  our  Savior,  as  well  as  our  In- 
structor; and  on  him,  by  faith,  we  should  rely  for  forgive- 
ness, for  effectual  assistance  in  obeying  his  precepts,  and  for 
the  acceptance  of  our  imperfect  obedience." 

We  now  return  to  his  narrative.  "During  part  of  the 
time  that  I  resided  at  Ravenstone,  I  daily  attended  Mr. 
Wrighte'sson:  but,  in  proportion  as  I  became  more  decidedly 
attentive  to  religion,  my  company  was  less  agreeable;  and, 
some  difference  arising  about  the  management  of  an  indulged 
child,  I  was  dismissed  from  this  employment.  For  some 
time  afterwards,  I  lived  on  terms  of  civiHty  with  the  familyr 
but,  on  my  decidedly  adopting  and  avowing  my  present  re- 
ligious sentiments,  this  connexion  was,  as  nearly  as  possible, 
dissolved.  Thus  all  my  flattering  prospects  from  that 
quarter  terminated.  But  it  is  better  to  trust  in  the  Lord^ 
than  to  put  any  confidence  in  princes.'''' — The  young  man, 
who  had  been  my  father's  pupil,  lost  his  life  about  the  time 
that  he  came  of  age,  in  a  melancholy  manner,  on  which 
occasion,  my  father  says,  "I  wrote  to  Mr.  W.  in  the  most 
consoling,  sympathizing  mapner  I  possibly  could,  introducing 
a  few  intimations  of  a  religious  nature;  hopir.^  that  on  so 
pathetic  an  occasion  his  answer  might  have  made  way  for 
something  further:  but  no  answer  was  returned." 

He  proceeds:  "Some  part  of  that  time  also,  I  had  two 
young  relations  from  London  under  my  care.  I  succeeded 
sufficiently  well  in  bringing  them  forward  in  their  studies, 
but  I  failed  of  gaining  their  attachment;  and  I  became  con^ 
vinced,  that  1  did  not  possess  that  patience,  meekness,  and 
self-command,  which  the  instruction  of  youth,  especially  of 
indulged  children,  requires:  and,  having  learned,  probably 
belter  than  I  had  any  other  good  lesson,  to  trust  in  the 
providence  of  God  for  temporal  subsistence,  while  I  at- 
tended to  the  duties  of  my  station;  and,  finding  that  I  had, 
in  my  peculiar  circumstances,  quite  sufficient  employment, 
in  learning  and  teaching  religion;  I  deliberately  gave  up  this 
part  of  my  plan,  resolving  to  undertake  nothing  more  in  the 
way  of  tuition,  at  least  for  the  present.    Thi»  being  deter^ 


78  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [Chai'.  IV, 

mined,  I  solemnly  vowed  before  God,  never  more  to  engage 
in  any  pursuit,  study,  or  publication,  which  should  not  be  ev- 
idently subservient  to  my  ministerial  usefulness,  or,  gener- 
ally, to  thje  propagation  of  genuine  Christianity.  In  some 
respects,  perhaps,  my  notions  on  these  subjects  were  too 
contracted:  but  I  rejoice,  and  am  thankful,  that  I  have 
hitherto  performed  this  vow." 

On  this  subject  the  following  paragraph  occurs  in  the  'Foree^ 
of  Truth.'  '•'About  this  time" — the  latter  part  of  the  yeat 
1776 — "after  many  delays,  I  complied  with  the  admonition^, 
of  my  conscience,  and  disengaged  myself  from  all  other  em- 
ployments,, with  a  solemn  resolution  to  leave  all  my  tempo- 
ral concerns  in  the-  hands  of  the  Lord,.and  entirely  to  devote 
myself  to  the  work  of  the  ministry.  Being  thus  become  mas- 
ter of  all  my  time,  I  dropped  every  other  study,  and  turned 
the  whole  current  of  my  reflections  and  inquiries  into  another, 
channel;  and  for  several  years  I  scarcely  opened  a  book, 
which  treated  of  any  thing  besides  religion." 

The  purpose  here  described,  so  solemnly  formed,  so 
faithfully  kept,  and  eventually  productive  of  such  impor- 
tant results,  must  certainly  be  noticed  as  a  very  observable 
point  in  my  father's  history.  The  proceeding  was  still 
characteristic;  shewing  his  usual  determination  of  mind- 
Circumstances  also,  as  he  implies,  might  peculiarly  call  for 
it  in  his  case:  and,  now  that  we  have  seen  the  event,  we 
cannot  help  regarding  it,  as  one  of  those  steps  which  was  ta 
lead  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  special  work,  that  di- 
vine providence  designed  him  to  perform.  Considering-, 
likewise  the  ambitious  views  which  had  influenced  his  en- 
tering into  orders,  and  many  of  his  subsequent  exertions^ 
and  the  deliberate  sacrifice  of  those  views  which  was  made 
by  the  resolution  now  before  us,  we  can  hardly  avoid  look- 
ing upon  it,  as  marking  a  mind  just  arrived  at  that  point  of 
its  Christian  progress,  at  which,  "af>er  many  delays,"  many 
hesitations,  and  misgivings,  and  conflicts,  and  fears,  perhaps., 
for  the  consequences,  it  is  at  length  brought  "to  count  all  but 
loss  for  Christ," — "finds  the  pearl  of  great  price,  and.  goe& 
and  sells  all  that  it  may  buy  it." 

Independently,   however,  of  any  thing  peculiar   to  the 

.^resent  case,  is  not   one  compelled  to  exclaim,  Blessed  is 

that  servant,  called  by  his  Lord  to  the  work  of  the   minis- 

'i^ry,  who  thus  "gives  himself  wholly  thereto!"*  7/j^"profit-- 

"  'Et  TovTOKo-^k.    I  Tim.  ir,  15v 


1775— r^TT.]  RELIGIOUS   VIEWS,  79 

mg  shall  be  known  unto  all  men:"  his  "labor  shall  not  be  in 
vain  in  the  Lord:"  he  shall  be  "blessed  in  his  deed."  Alas! 
in  this  especially  we  fail,  I  fear,  of  imitating  the  primitive 
ministers  of  the  gospeh  And  are  not  we,  of  the  present 
generation,  here  in  danger  of  falling  short  of  our  fathers;  of 
men  who  have  been  called  to  their  reward  even  in  out 
own  time?  Are  we  not  often  distracted  by  various  studies,. 
various  pursuits,  which  pertain  to  the  present  life,  instead 
of  wholly  given  to  the  work  of  the  Lord?  Is  it  not  from  this, 
among  other  causes,  that  we  are  so  Uable  to  be  ministers, 
indeed,  in  the  pulpit,  but,  at  the  best,  only  ordinary  Chris- 
tians every  where  else?* 

While  I  venture  to  suggest  these  inquiries,,  prompted, 
alas!  in  great  measure  by  my  own  feelings,  and  my  ovvn 
consciousness,  I  would  not  forget  the  limitation  which  the 
subject  of  these  memoirs  himself  puts  upon  what  has  given 
occasion  to  them.  He  observes,  "In  some  respects,  per- 
haps, my  notions  on  these  subjects  were  (then)  too  con- 
tracted." And  accordingly  I  would  add,  that,  though  "for 
several  years  he  scarcely  opened  a  book  which  treated  of 
any  thing  besides  religion,"  this  by  no  means  continued  to 
be  the  case,  when  his  mind  was  made  up  and  well  stored 
with  information  upon  theological  questions.  On  the  cour 
trary  his  reading  then  became  as  various  as  he  had  the  op- 
portunity of  making  it.  No  book,  which  furnished  knowlr 
edge  that  might  be  turned  to  account,  was  uninteresting  to 
him.t  It  was  his  sentiment,,  that  every  student  should  be 
as  excursive  in  his  researches,  as  his  particular  calling 
would  permit  him  to  be;  but  that  every  one  should  have, 
so  to  s[)eak,  "a  hive"  to  which  to  bring  home  his  collected 
stores;  should  make  all  his  acquisitions  bear  upon  some  use- 
ful object.  So  far  from  undervaluing  solid  learning  of  any 
kind,,  he  esteemed  it  more  and  more  highly,  to  the  end  of 
life;  and  earnestly  pressed  young  men  to  acquire  it,  that 
they  miglit  consecrate  it  to  the  service  of  God.  He  longed 
lo  see  other  branches  of  literature  rendered  subservient  to 
religion;  and  thought  that,  while  too   much,  perhaps,  was 

•  Seethe  admirable  remarks  on  the  Christian  Ministry  in  Mr.  Ce- 
cil's Remaiiis. 

f  \s  examples  I  would  mention,  that,  when  Mr.  H.  Thornton's  work 
on  Pnper  Credit  came  out,  he  read  it  repeatedly  with  great  satisfaction;, 
having  in  KOtwe  mea-iure  been  prepared  for  the  suhjtct  by  his  forjuer  ' 
stud}  of  Locke's  '  I  rt.ati.'<es  on  Money,'  &c.  At  a  juuch  later  peiio*!  also- 
he  felt  hitaself  deeply  interested  ii>  reading  lh«  Greek  tr^edkns,  and. 
etlier  classic  authors,  with  his  pupils. 


80  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [Chjif.  W. 

published  directly  upon  theological  subjects,  there  was  a 
lamentable  deficiency  of  literary  works  conducted  upon 
sound  Christian  principles. 

I  may  here  introduce  another  remarkable  letter,  shew- 
ing the  progress  of  his  doctrinal  views  at  this  time.  It  is 
addre^ssed  to  his  younger  sister,  and  dated  December  30, 
1776.  I  should  have  supposed  it  written  after  he  had  be- 
come acquainted  with  Hooker's  works,  had  he  not  in  the 
'Force  of  Truth'  so  expressly  referred  his  introduction  to 
that  great  writer  to  the  following  month,  January  1777. 
One  expression  in  the  letter  certainly  seems  to  imply  that 
he  had  met  with,  at  least,  "n  impc  rtant  quotation  from  Hook- 
er.— It  should  be  borne  in  mind,  that  in  this  and  other  let- 
ters, when  he  uses  the  term  methodisf^  it  is  with  the  same 
limitation  as  in  the  'Force  of  Truth:'  it  means  neither  the 
followers  of  Mr.  Wesley,  nor  of  Mr.  VVhitefield,  to  whom 
it  was  first  applied,  and  by  whom  it  has  been  more  or  less 
recognized;  but  chiefly  those  persons,  within  the  pale  of 
the  established  church,  who  have  incurred  it,  as  a  term  of 
reproach,  by  a  close  adherence  to  the  real  doctrines  (as 
they  apprehend  them  to  be,)  of  the  reformation,  and  a  con- 
duct corresponding  with  their  principles.*  The  letter  is 
as  follows: 

"I  told  my  brother  I  would  give  him  my  sentiments  on 
some  subjects  he  mentioned,  in  my  letter  to  you.  The  first 
was  the  Methodists.  And  here  I  shall  not  begin  to  rail  at 
them,  or  condemn  them  and  their  doctrines  and  principles 
altogether;  nor  yet  shall  I  acquit,  or  extol  them,  in  the 
gross.  Their  doctrines  are  the  doctrines  of  scripture,  by 
the  help  of  a  warm  imagination,  run  into  extremes;  which, 
pushed  forward  by  the  same  helps,  may  be  represented  as 
little  better  than  madness,  and  as  destructive  of  all  prac- 
tical religion. — Their  doctrines  are,  1.  Justification  by  faith 
alone:  and  in  this  matter  they  are  evidently  ia  the  right,  as 
every  man  who  reads  the  Scripture  must  see.  The  doc- 
trine, as  I  view  it,  stands  thus:  All  men  are  actual  sinners: 
No  sinner  can  justify  himself  before  God:  If  then  he  be 
justified,  it  cannot  be  by  his  own  works,  but  by  God's  mercy 
and  favor:  And  this  mercy  and  favor  are  given  to  none  but 
believers.  At  the  same  time,  even  our  best  performtmces 
have  so  much  of  imperfection  in  them,  our  fruit  ofiiohness 

*  See  note  at  the  end  of  the  first  part  of  the  'Force  of  Truth  .^ 


1775—1777]         RELIGIOUS    VIEWS.  a! 

is  so  unsound,*  that,  before  a  holy  God,  even  our  best  ac- 
tions cannot  justify  themselves;  much  less  atone  for  our  man- 
ifold sins,  or  deserve  any  reward,  or  an  eternal  reward. 
Therefore  our  justification  is  not,  in  any  sense  oj*  degree,, 
attributed  to  our  works,  because  they  have  no  inherent 
merit,  or  acceptabieness,  in  them,  save  that  God  doth  mer- 
citully  condescend  to  accept  them  at  the  hands  of  believers. 
Therefore  we  are  justified  before  God  by  faith:  but  then  it 
is  such  a  faith  as  worketh  by  love,  love  of  God  and  man; 
bringeth  the  believer  under  the  influence  of  the  Holy 
Spirit:  and  the  fruit  of  that  Spirit  is  in  all  goodnes^^  and 
righteousness^  and  truth.  If  faith  do  not  this,  it  i<so  far  frona 
justifying  any  person,  that  it  cannot  justify  itself:  it  is  deadv, 
inactive,  unfruitful.  Thus  the  necessity  of  good  works  is 
effectually  secured,  for  without  them  there  is  no  justifica- 
tion. And  yet  we  are  not  justified  by  them,  but  by  that 
faith  which  produces  them.  Read  St.  Paul's  epistles,  and 
St.  James's,  carefully,  without  any  comment,  and  object  to 
the  doctrine  if  you  can.  The  methodists  therefore  are  to 
blame  in  this  alone,  that  they  do  not  guard  their  doctrine  as 
St.  Paul  has  done,  but  use  such  expressions  in  discoursing  of 
it,  as  may  be  interpreted  so,  as  utterly  to  destroy  all  good 
and  evil;  and  dwell  on  these  passages  in  such  wise,  as  to 
neglect  and  undervalue  those  other  passages  which  so  plainly 
declare,  that  the  design  of  the  gospel  is,  to  make  us  holy 
here,  that  we  may  be  capable  of  being  happy  hereafter. 
See  Tit.  ii,  11,  fee. — But  then  the  ministers  of  other  prin- 
ciples are  at  least  equally  to  blame  for  so  much  neglecting 
to  study  the  scriptures,  and  to  explain  these  doctrines  in 
Iheir  true  sense;  thereby  giving  injudicious  people  an  occa- 
5Nion  of  perverting  them. — In  short,  we  are  to  be  justified 
by  our  faith,  which  alone  can  render  sinners  partakers  of 
the  grace  and  mercy  of  the  gospel:  at  the  same  time,  we 
and  our  faith  also  must  be  judged  according  to  our  works: 
and,  if  our  faith  have  not  produced  the  fruits  of  righteous- 
ness, it  will  be  condemned  as  dead  and  unfruitful,  and  we 
both  as  sinners  and  unbelievers. — 2.  The.JVIethodists  preach 
the  imputed  righteousness  of  Christ:  which  too  is  a  scrips 
ture  doctrine,  as  I  think,  (r'hrist  became  sin  for  ws,  though  he 
knezv  no  sin,  that  we  might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God 
in  him,  says  St.  Paul.  But  I  will  leave  you  to  examine  it, 
unless  you  desire  me  to  be  more  full,  and  only  lay  down 

*  "The  little  fruit  whiph  we  have  in  holincssj  it  is,  God  kiioweth,  otjr* 
rupi  and  unsound.'*    thoker^  of  J^ustiftcatioa, 


^2  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [Chap.  IV. 

my  system  of  it.  We  all  by  nature  had  interest  in  Adam, 
and  were  condemned  in  or  by  his  condemnation,  for  his 
disobedience,  unto  temporal  death.  (This  certainly  we 
all  suffered  on  account  of  Adam's  sin,  who  thereby  became 
mortal,  and  propagated  a  mortal  progeny;  though  all  other 
consequences  w^re  best  attributed  to  each  person's  actual 
transgressions.) — Even  so  we  all  may  spiritually,  being  by 
faith  united  unto  him,  as  branches  of  the  true  vine,  have 
interest  in  Christ,  and  be  justified  ^n  his  justification,  for  his 
perfect  obedience,  unto  eternal  life.  See  Rom.  v,  vi. — I 
am  persuaded,  if  you  carefully  examine,  you  will  find  this 
not  only  St.  Paul's  doctrine,  but,  in  general,  the  doctrine 
of  the  New  Testament.  The  only  fault  the  Methodists  com- 
mit is,  in  laying  so  much  stress  on  this,  as  to  derogate 
from  the  necessity  of  personal  righteousness,  or  holiness. 
And  here  indeed  they  are  very  unscriptural;  for  nothing 
can  be  plainer  than  that,  if  any  man  be  by  faith  united  unto 
Christ,  that  union  will  assuredly  make  him  bring  forth 
much  fruit:  (see  John  xv:)  and  that  nothing  can  more 
effectually  dissolve  that  mystical  union,  than  a  wicked  and 
immoral  life. — 3.  The  methodists  attribute  all  to  the  grace 
of  God's  Holy  Spirit,  even  faith  itself:  and  so  do  the  scrip- 
tures. And  yet  in  this  they  are  more  exceptionable  than 
in  any  other  point;  because  they  thereby  totally  and  avow- 
edly overthrow  our  agency,  and  turn  us  into  machines,  and 
render  God  a  respecter  of  persons',  and  indeed  what  I  do 
not  choose  to  say.*  In  short,  to  every  Christian  God  hath 
promised  his  Holy  Spirit,  if  he  sue  for  it,  and  is  more  ready 
lo  give  than  we  to  pray;  and  doth,  in  the  sinner's  conver- 
sion, prevent  his  prayers:  but  we  may  resist,  grieve,  quench, 

do  despite   unto  this  Holy  Spirit I  say   nothing  of  their 

notions  of  election,  predestination,  assurance  of  the  elect, 
and  others,  which  are  all  imphed,  as  far  as  doctrinal,!  ia 
what  I  have  said;  though  as  mere  speculative  notions  they 
are  not;  and  are  too  abstruse,  and  unimportant,  and  perplex- 
ing, to  be  worth  treating  of — The  doctrines  of  regenera- 
tion, or  the  new  birth,  and  original  sin,  and  free  grace,  are 
all  more  or  less  scriptural:  but  under  such  interpreters  are 
generally  carried  much  beyond  the  truth,  and  degenerate 
into  fanaticism,  and  partake  of  their  other  notions " 

*  It  need  not  be  said  w^iat  his  own  subsequent  opinion  was  of  these 
charges.  They  fall  under  t^,le  censure  implied  in  the  first  sentence  of 
this  lettciP,  concerning  the  doctrines  of  '*the  methodists," 

I  ^uery:  practicHt? 


1775—1777.]         RELIGIOUS    VIEWS.  83 

The  birth  of  my  father's  two  eldest  children,  at  Ravens- 
tone,  has  been  already  mentioned.  Perhaps  I  shall  be  ex- 
cused, if,  for  the  sake  of  introducing  a  characteristic  para- 
graph, I  bring  myself  a  little  more  distinctly  into  notice. 
The  next  letter  to  his  sister,  dated  April  15,  1777,  contains 
the  following  passage: 

"As  to  my  boy,  he  is  already  dedicated  to  the  ministry,  if 
it  please  God  to  spare  his  life,  and  mine,  and  to  give  him  a 
head  and  heart  meet  for  so  sacred  and  important  a  function. 
Should  he  be  defective  in  either  one  or  the  other,  he  shall 
be  any  thing  or  nothing  rather  than  that.  Bad  ministers  we 
have  enough,  and  much  more  than  enough:  but  good  ones 
are  a  sort  of  black  swans,  mighty  gr€at  rarities. — It  was 
with  this  intent  that  I  wished  the  child  to  be  a  boy;  and 
with  this  intent  I  shall,  God  willing,  always  educate  him: 
and,  if  he  lives  to  be  a  pious,  faithful,  able,  and  useful  min- 
ister of  the  gospel,  I  ask  no  higher  preferment  for  him, 
than  I  now  have  myself:  so  contented  am  I  with  my  own 
lot,  and  so  totally  in4ifferent  about  these  lesser  matters." 

"At  this  time,"  my  father  proceeds  in  his  memoir,  "I  had 
not  the  most  distant  prospect  of  preferment;  my  expecta- 
tion of  adding  to  my  scanty  income  by  pupils  was  termi- 
nated; and,  considering  the  character  of  my  vicar,  and  the 
determined  opposition  of  my  former  rector,  I  had  little 
prospect  of  retaining  my  curacy.  Yet,  with  an  increasing 
family,  I  seldom  felt  any  anxiety  about  a  provision:  and  my 
wife,  who  had  married  with  different  prospects,  fully  con- 
curred with  me.  She  would  s'ay,  'Only  act  according  to  thjjt,, 
dictates  of  your  conscience;  we  shall  doubtless  be  provided 
for:'  yet,  when  she  saw,  as  she  frequently  did,  that  my 
eager  spirit  and  violent  temper  were  hurrying  me  into 
wrong  measures,  she  uniformly  checked  me:  and,  though 
often  not  till  after  much  opposition  on  my  part,  she  always 
carried  her  point  with  me;  to  my  unspeakable  benefit. 

"After  I  had  written  my  sermons  for  the  Sunday,  I,  for  a 
long  time,  constantly  read  them  to  her  before  they  were 
preached:  and,  at  her  instance,  I  altered  many  things,  es- 
pecially in  exchanging  words,  unintelligible  to  laborers  and 
lace-makers,  for  simpler  language.  This  induced  a  habit 
of  familiar  speaking  in  the  pulpit,  which  has  since  been 
censured,  probably  with  justice,  as  too  colloquial." 

It  may  here  be  added,  that  my  father's  practice  of  ex- 
temporary preaching  commenced  from  these  private  re- 
hearsals of  his  sej^mons  before  they  were  preached.     Som^r 


84  AT  WESTON   UNDERWOOD.      [Chap.  V. 

thing  had  occurred  in  the  parish  to  which  he  thought  it 
right  to  allude  in  the  pulpit:  but,  on  his  reciting  to  my 
mother  the  sermon  which  he  had  prepared,  she  objected 
to  it,  and  brought  him  over  to  her  opinion.  He  in  conse- 
quence laid  aside  the  discourse,  and  was  thus,  on  the  Satur- 
day evening,  left  without  one  for  the  next  day.  This  in- 
duced him  to  address  his  congregation  without  written  pre- 
paration; and,  succeeding  in  the  attempt,  he  repeated  it,  and 
by  degrees  discontinued  the  use  of  written  sermons.  This 
change,  however,  was  not  made  without  severe  effort.  An 
old  parishioner  at  Weston  (lately  deceased,)  mentioned  well 
remembering  his  sitting  down  in  a  kind  of  despair,  and  ex- 
claiming, 'It  does  not  signify,  it  is  impossible  that  1  should 
€ver  be  able  to  preach  extempore.' 


CHAPTER  V. 

T(y  THE   PERIOD    OF   THE  PUBLICATION  OF  THE  FORCE   OF  TRUTHt 

"In  the  spring,  1777,  I  removed  to  Weston  Underwood, 
to  a  house  afterwards  well  known,  under  the  name  of  the 
Lodge,  as  the  residence  of  the  poet  Cowper.  The  ground 
intended  for  the  garden,  when  I  came  to  it,  more  resembled 
a  stone-quarry:  but  by  my  personal  labor  it  was  brought  into 
order,  and  several  fine  fruit  trees,  now  growing  in  it,  were 
,^f  my  planting, 

"In  August  following  my  father  died.  He  seemed  to  be 
well  satisfied  at  my  becoming  a  clergyman:  but  my  new 
views  of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  did  not  meet  his  ap- 
probation. In  answer  to  what  1  had  written  on  this  subject, 
i  received  a  letter  very  hostile  to  my  sentiments,  and  full 
of  Socinian  principles.  This  greatly  affected  me,  and  I 
wrote  an  answer  with  many  tears  and  prayers:  but  he  never 
saw  it,  as  he  was  dying  when  it  arrived.  On  receiving 
information  of  his  sickness,  1  set  off  immediately  to  visit 
him,  but  I  did  not  reach  his  house  (distant  more  than  a 
hundred  miles,)  till  after  his  funeral. 

"Every  circumstance,  on  this  mournful  occasion,  con- 
curred to  depress  my  spirits;  and  I  appeared  so  dejected 
and  melancholy  among  my  relations,  and  my  former  neigh- 
bors, who  had  always  before  been  pleased  with  my 
ckeerfulaess,  (though  alas]  it  was  ia  jg^reat  measure  ai' 


J777— 1779.]      AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  85 

snmed  and  affected,)  that  my  religious  principles  bore  the 
blame,  and  their  prejudices  against  them  were  much  in- 
creased." 

in  a  lettq^  dated  April  15th  of  this  year,  he  had  thus 
adverted  to  his  father's  religious  sentiments.  "I  am  grieved 
whenever  I  think  of  some  notions  my  father  used  to  hold, 
which  are  so  directly  contrary  to  true  Christian  doctrine, 
and  grounded  on  self-dependence,  which  most  assuredly 
is  destructive  of  the  whole  scheme  of  justification  through 
Christ.  He  has  given  me  permission  to  write  on  these 
subjects;  and  I  have  written  several  letters  already,  which 
must  1  think  convince  him,  that  man  has  no  ground  to 
hope  for  acceptance  with  God  on  his  own  account,  or 
through  his  own  poor  deservings.  It  is  amazing  to  consider 
what  havoc  this  self-depetidence  makes  among  the  Christian 
duties.  Gratitude  for  abundant  mercies  received,  and 
praise  and  thanksgiving  in  consequence;  prayer  to  God 
for  forgiveness,  for  assistance,  and  for  acceptance;  in 
short,  every  part  of  piety  and  the  love  of  God  suffers  ex- 
ceedingly from  these  notions:  and  so  doth  humiUty,  which 
is  of  all  others  the  most  needful  to  our  acceptance  with  God, 
who  resisteth  the  proud^  and  giveth  his  grace  unto  the  humble. 
Indeed  I  cannot  conceive  that  a  man  can  become  a  Chris- 
tian, who  does  not  feel  that  he  is  a  poor  lost  sinner,  that 
has  no  hope  but  from  God's  mercy  in  Christ.  My  brother, 
I  am  of  opinion,  disapproves  this  way  of  writing:  but  1  do 
it,  I  am  sure,  from  the  best  of  motives,  and  would  rather 
convince  my  father  of  his  errors  in  this  respect,  than  ac- 
quire a  very  large  sum  of  money — aye,  than  obtain  any 
worldly  advantage  whatsoever." 

In  the  same  letter  he  thus  notices  his  approaching  re- 
moval to  Weston:  "I  have  scarcely  room  to  tell  you,  that 
we  are  to  remove  to  Weston,  to  a  tine  house,  fit  for  a  squire, 
and  other  people  are  to  pay  the  rent.  This  (obtaining  of 
a  house  at  Weston)  I  heartily  thank  God  for,  as  I  am  placed 
in  a  neighborhood  where  every  body  vies  in  kindness  to  me; 
and  where  I  have  the  pleasing  prospect  of  doing  much  good. 
Assure  yourself,  dear  sister,  that  God  will  raise  up  friends, 
and  provide  for  all  who  trust  in  him,  and  serve  him." 

The  death  of  his  mother  took  place  the  28th  of  October 
following.  The  event  appears  to  have  come  upon  him  un- 
expectedly. He  was  to  have  received  a  visit  from  her, 
which  he  had  hoped  might  promote  her  spiritual  interests, 
but  she  was  not  able  to  undertake  the  journey;  and  it  aeem« 
8 


Sef  AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  [Chap.  V. 

not  to  have  been  till  the  29th  of  October,  (the  day  after  her 
decease,)  that  he  was  apprized  of  her  danger,  or  had  the 
opportunity  of  writing  to  her  on  the  subject.  In  a  letter  to 
his  elder  sister  of  that  date,  enclosing  one  to  his  mother,  he 
says:  "God  knows  my  heart,  I  have  no  sentiments  respect- 
ing either  you  or  her,  or  any  of  the  family,  but  those  of 
love  and  aifection,  and  am  exceedingly  sorry  that  my  unde- 
signed negligence"  (he  had  written  a  letter  which  had 
slipped  behind  his  bureau,  and  was  never  sent,)  ''should 
cause  any  uneasiness  to  one,  to  whom  I  wish  most  sincere- 
ly every  possible  good,  and  whom  I  most  heartily  pray  to 

God  to  bless  with  every  blessing  here  and  hereafter 

Though  I  sincerely  wish  every  branch  of  the  family  may 
contend,  who  shall  show  our  common  and  only  remaining 
parent  the  most  tenderness  and  attention,  yet  I  would  not 
have  it  such  a  contest  as  to  disturb,  in  the  least,  that  mutual 
love  and  harmony,  which  I  wish,  and  shall  ever  endeavor 
to  preserve  amongst  ourselves." 

About  the  time  of  my  father's  removal  to  Weston,  his  in- 
tercourse with  Mr.  Newton,  which  had  been  almost  wholly 
broken  off  since  the  termination  of  their  correspondence 
in  December  1775,  was  renewed.  ''Under  discouraging 
circumstances,"  he  tells  us  in  the  'Force  of  Truth;'  he 
''had  occasion  to  call  upon  Mr.  N.,  and  was  so  comfort- 
ed and  edified  by  his  discourse,  that  his  heart,  being  by 
this  means  relieved  of  its  burden,  became  susceptible  of 
afl'ection  for  him.  From  that  time,"  he  says,  "I  was  in*- 
■wardly  pleased  to  have  him  for  my  friend;  though  not, 
as  now,  rejoiced  to  call  him  so." 

The  narrative  proceeds:  "About  170/.  eventually  came 
to  me  by  my  father's  death;  which,  by  annual  small  de- 
ductions beyond  the  interest,  was  gradually  exhausted.  I 
had  indeed,  at  that  time,  to  struggle  with  many  difficulties; 
but  I  met  with  unexpected  helps,  and  still  kept  up  my 
credit,  though  not  free  from  debt. 

"I  had  frequent  attacks  of  sickness;  and,  after  one  long 
and  dangerous  illness,  which  had  occasioned  heavy  addi- 
tional expences,  my  wife,  who  was  seldom  disposed  to 
distrust  providence,  lamented  to  me  the  increase  of  our 
debts,  as  the  medical  charges  amounted  to  above  10/.  It 
was  my  turn,  on  this  occasion,  to  be  the  stronger  in  faith; 
-and  I  answered  confidently,  'Now  observe  if  the  Lord  do 
not,  in  some  way,  send  us  an  additional  supply  to  meet 
this  expence,  which  it  was  not  in  our  power  to  avoid.'    J 


1777—1779.]      AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  8T 

had,  at  the  time,  no  i'dea  of  any  source  from  which  this 
additional  supply  was  to  be  derivecl:  but,  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  same  day,  when  I  was  visiting  my  people, 
Mr.  Higgins,  jun.  called  at  my  house  and  left  a  paper, 
which  he  said  when  I  had  filled  up  the  blanks,  would  entitle 
me  to  10/.  from  m  sum  of  money  left  for  the  relief  of 
poor  clergymen.  This  I  never  received  at  any  other  time, 
nor  can  I  recollect  the  source  from  which  it  came." 

The  remarks  which  I  would  make  upon  this  incident 
are  the  following:  That,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  it, 
the  fact  no  doubt  happened  as  here  related:  that  my 
father  was  by  no  means  disposed  to  expect  extraordinary 
interpositions  of  providence,  or  to  make  a  display  of 
them  when  they  appeared  to  take  place:  that  it  is  by 
no  means  uncommon  for  good  men,  of  the  most  sober 
minds,  circumstanced  as  he  was,  to  meet  with  such  occur- 
rences; which  form  one,  among  many  means,  of  render- 
ing their  scanty  supplies  a  source  of  greater  enjoyment, 
than  the  more  ample  provision  of  their  richer  brethren 
frequently  proves:  and,  finally,  that  I  believe  every  careful 
observer  will  find  remarkable  coincidences  in  the  course  of 
events,  which  he  will  feel  it  right  to  note,  as  subjects  of 
grateful  remembrance  to  himself,  whether  he  deem  it 
proper  to  communicate  them  to  others  or  not. — "Whoso  is 
wise  will  ponder  these  things:  and  they  shall  understand  the 
loving-kindness  of  the  Lord." 

"About  this  time,*'  he  proceeds,  "I  began,  with  great 
caution,  to  administer  medical  assistance  to  a  few  of  my  poor 
neighbors,  and  Mr.  (now  Dr.)  Kerr,  of  Northampton,*  be 
stowed  some  pains  in  directing  my  proceedings:  for  he  felt, 
as  1  have  always  done,  that  the  poor  in  country  villages  are 
under  great  and  pitiable  disadvantages  in  this  respect,  which 
no  humanity  of  their  neighbors,  without  medical  skill,  can 
prevent.  I  had  before  paid  some  attention  to  the  study  of 
medicine;  and  now,  having  so  eminently  skilful  an  adviser 
ready  to  give  me  counsel  and  aid,  I  made  progress;  and,  being 
always  cautious  not  to  act  beyond  my  knowledge,  I  had 
great  success  at  small  expence.  It  may  not  be  impeHinent 
to  remark,  that,  from  that  time  to  the  present,  I  have  con- 
stantly had  medical  advice  for  myself  and  my  family  gratis; 
and  my  annual  charge  for  medicines,  including   those  dis- 

*  Still  practising  there  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  his  powers,  though 
fiiany  years  oldei:  than  my  father.  ,  ^ 


S8  AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.      [Chap.  V. 

tributecl  to  the  poor,  has  been  less,  4\\  aa  average,  than  my 
apothecary's  bill  used  previously  to  be. 

"Concerning-  the  progress  of  my  mind  at  this  time,  in  its 
religious  inquiries,  I  need  not  add  to  what  I  have  written  in 
the  'Force  of  Truth.'  " 

From  that  narrative  we  may  observe,  that  this  year,  1777, 
was  marked  as  bringing  his  religious  inquiries  to  a  decisive 
result,  and  giving  somewhat  of  mature  form  to  his  scheme 
of  doctrine.  In  the  course  of  it  his  views  were  cleared  up, 
and  his  sentiments  established,  successively,  upon  the  doc- 
trines of  the  atonement,  human  depravity,  the  Trinity,  justi- 
fication, the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  finally,  on  that  of 
personal  election.  Now  also  he  was  enabled,  after  many 
conflicts  with  himself,  to  make  his  last  and  most  trying 
sacrifice,  that  of  reputation;  and  calmly,  yea,  cheerfully,  to 
submit  to  "suffer  reproach,"  and  to  be  accounted,  "a  fool 
for  Christ's  sake."  From  about  the  close  of  this  year,  he 
began  with  profit  to  hear  Mt.  Newton  preach;  and,  being 
established  in  the  belief  of  the  great  truths  of  the  gospel, 
to  cherish  their  proper  influence  upon  his  own  heart  and 
life. 

Some  further  extracts  from  an  interesting  letter  to  his 
elder  sister,  of  the  15th  of  April  in  this  year,  parts  of  which 
have  been  already  inserted,  may  bear  both  on  the  facts  just 
related  and  on  those  which  are  next  to  follow. 

"It  is  an  uncommon  degree  of  fortitude  to  be  able  to  set 
one's  face  against  the  world,  and  to  act  contrary  to  its 
received  maxims  and  customs.  The  soldier,  who  is  bold  as  a 
lion  in  the  day  of  battle,  turns  coward  here,  and  dares  not 
refuse  a  challenge,  though  his  reason,  his  religion,  the  laws 
of  the  land,  and  his  own  inchnation,  are  all  directly  c®n- 
trary  to  it:  though  his  life  and  soul  are  at  s^ake.  Such  a 
tyrant  is  custom!  Who  dare  oppose  him?  1  will  tell  you 
who:  the  confirmed  Christian.  Who  is  he  that  overcometh 
the  world?  Even  he  that  believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of 
God.  And  this  is  the  victory^  even  our  faith.  These  are  the 
o  nly  men  who  ever  dare  to  obey  God  rather  than  man,  where 
the  two  are  in  direct  opposition.  But  it  is  not  every  Chris- 
tian, no,  nor  every  good  and  pious  Christian,  who  can  thus 
courageously  act,  and  undauntedly  follow  the  dictates  of 
conscience,  when  friends,  relations,  and  all  those  whom  one 
has  been  used  to  reverence  and  love,  are  of  a  contrary 
opinion;  especially  if  the  case  be  dubious,  and  much  jptiay 
he  said  (M^both  sides.    This  is  th^  last  yi^tpry  the  Christian 


17-7—1779.]      AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  89 

gains.  He  will  master,  by  that  ^race  which  is  given  of  God, 
his  own  lusts  and  passions,  and  all  manner  of  inward  and  out- 
ward temptations;  he  will  be  dead  to  the  interest,  pleasures, 
and  diversions  of  the  world;  and  his  affections  will  be  earn- 
estly set  upon  things  above;  long  before  he  has  mastered  this 

fear  of  men Here  I  find  my  own  deficiency,  as  much 

or  more  than  in  any  other  respect:  and  often  I  feel  an  in- 
ward timidity,  when  about  to  preach  an  unpopular  doctrine, 
or  expose  a  foible  which  some  one  of  my  congregation, 
whom  I  otherwise  love  and  esteem,  is  remarkable  for:  and 
in  every  instance  I  feel  the  greatest  reluctancy  to  resign  the 
good  opinion,  or  act  contrary  to  the  judgment  of  those  for 
whom  I  have  an  esteem.  It  is  true  1  am  peculiarly  bound 
to  strive  against  this,  by  reason  of  my  ministerial  otHce.  I 
am  to  speak  boldly,  noi  as  a  man-pleaser^  but  as  the  servant  of 
God:  and  therefore  I  endeavor  to  master  all  these  fears,  and 
to  act  implicitly  as  my  conscience  suggests,  without  respect 
of  persons.  Conformity  to  others  in  things  unchristian,  the 
fear  of  men,  a  servile  spirit  of  time-serving,  &c.  are  the 
faults  of  ministers,  and  effectually  hinder  even  those  who 
desire  it,  from  performing  the  most  important  parts  of  their 
ministry,  both  in  public  preaching,  and  by  private  applica- 
tion. But  this  kind  of  spirit  goeth  not  out  but  by  a  very 
spiritual  and  devout  course  of  life.  Indeed  its  expulsion  is 
the  gift  of  God,  and  is  to  be  specially  sought  for  from  him.  . . 
To  betray  the  more  important,  in  order  to  secure  the  lesser 
interest,  is  a  thing  I  could  not  do;  and  I  have  too  great  an 
opinion  of  your  sincerity  in  your  profession  as  a  Christian, 
to  think  you  would  wish  it.  But  perfection  is  not  attainable 
here;  and,  had  we  nothing  else  to  trust  to  for  acceptance 
with  God,  but  our  own  impertect  righteousness,  we  should 
have  little  to  support  us,  and  should  have  a  strong  temptation 
to  despair,  as  soon  as  ever  we  became  acquainted  with  the 
strictness*  of  God-s  law,  and  our  own  transgressions  of  it, 
daily  and  hourly  repeated.  But,  thank  God,  the  wound  is 
no  sooner  given,  Ihnn  the  remedy  is  applied:  our  self-de- 
pendence is  no  sooner  undermined,  than  we  are  supplied 
with  a  more  sure  ground  of  dependence,  even  the  merits 
and  sufferings  of  our  crucified  Redeemer. — May  you  and  1, 
and  all  ours,  have,  by  true,  lively,  humble  faith,  an  in- 
terest in  him!" 

The  next  occurrence,  recorded  in  the  memoir,  marks  the 
faithfulness  with  which  my  father  was  now  discharging 
the  duties  of  his  ministry,  not  only  ia  the  congregation,  but 


90  AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  [Chap.  V. 

towards  his  parishoners  individually;  and  the  success  of  an 
attempt,  which  could  not  be  made  but  at  a  considerable  ex- 
pence  of  feeling,  may  encourage  others  not  to  decline  such 
services.  / 

"In  the  summer  of  this  year  (1777)  Mr.  Higgins  who  was 
formerly  mentioned,  returned  from  London  in  a  very  bad 
state  of  health,  and  I  soon  found  that  his  disorder  was  drop- 
sy; the  symptoms  of  which  afforded  no  hopes  of  his  re- 
covery, or  long  continuance  in  lite:  yet  no  one  gave  him  the 
least  intimation  of  his  danger.  I  could  not  consider  him  as 
in  a  decidedly  prepared  state:  nay,  I  greatly  doubted  his 
experimental  acquaintance  with  religion.  He  was  my 
superior  and  benefactor.  He  was  old,  and  I  was  young.  I 
knew  not  how  to  act:  but  I  could  have  no  peace  without  at- 
tempting something.  After  much  consideration  and, prayer, 
therefore,  I  wrote  to  him,  in  the  kindest  and  most  grateful 
manner  I  could;  but  plainly  informing  him  what  the  ph}'- 
sicians  thought  of  his  disease,  and  not  obscurely  intimating 
my  fears  in  respect  of  his  immortal  soul.  I  was  greatlj^ 
afraid  that  some  of  the  family  would  be  offended  at  this 
proceeding,  especially  if  he  himself  should  not  take  it  well. 
But  he  expressed  great  approbation  and  thankfulness;  and 
I  was  requested  to  visit  him  daily  as  a  minister:  which  I 
did,  conversing  very  plainly  with  him,  and  always  conclud- 
ing with  prayer.  He  heard  me  attentively;  was  at  times 
aflected;  and  always  seemed  pleased  with  my  assiduity, 
though  he  spoke  little.  His  end  proved  to  be  nearer  than 
any  one  expected,  and  he  expired  siAddenly  in  his  chair, 
without  saying  any  thing  particular.  I  however  had  done 
my  duty:  I  trust  my  endeavors  were  made  useful  to  his 
widow;  and  certainly  I  lost  no  favor  by  my  honesty — which 
is  not,  in  such  cases,  by  any  means  so  perilous  as  we  are 
often  apt  to  suppose  it. — I  was  also  desired  to  write  an  in- 
scription for  his  monument,  which  was,  to  me,  a  very  diir 
ticult  task:  but  I  was  enabled  to  execute  it  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  the  parties  concerned. 

"In  the  former  part  of  my  life  I  had  been  exceedingly 
fond  of  curds.  Indeed  I  shewed  a  propensity  to  gaming, 
from  which  many  bad  consequences  had  been  foreboded: 
but  ill  success  on  one  occasion,  long  before  I  attended  to 
religion,  had  rescued  me  from  this;  and,  at  the  time  of 
which  I  am  now  writing,  I  had  lost  all  my  relish  for  the 
diversion  of  cards,  and  every  other  of  a  similar  nature.  I, 
however,  occasionally  joined  in  a  game,  from  an  idea  that 


1777—1779.]       AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  91 

too  great  preciseness  might  prejudice  my  neighbors:  and  I 
was  then  of  opinion,   that  there  was  no   harm  in  the  prac- 
tice, though  it  seemed  a  frivolous  way  of  spending  time. 
I  felt  it  also  a  very  awkward  transition  to  remove  the  card- 
table,  and  introduce  the  Bible  and  family  worship;  though  I 
never  omitted  this  service  at  home,  and  commonly  proposed 
it  in  my  visits.    My  fetters  were,  however,  broken  effectual- 
ly, and  at  once,  about  January  1778,  in  the  following  man- 
ner.    Being  on  a  visit  to  one  of  my  parishoners  at  Raven- 
stone,  I  walked  out  after  dinner,  as   was  my  common  prac- 
tice on  such   occasions,  to  visit  some   of  my  poor  people; 
when  one  of  them  (the  first  person,  as  far  as  1   know,  to 
whom  my  ministry  had  been  made  decidedly  useful,)  said  to 
me,  'I  have  something  which  I  wish  to  say  to  you,  but  I  am 
afraid  you  may  be  offended.'     I  answered,  that  1  could  not 
promise,  but   I  hoped   I  should  not.     She  then  said,   'You 
know  A.  B.:  he  has  lately  appeared  attentive  to  religion, 
and   has  spoken  to  me  concerning  the  sacrament:  but  last 
night,  he,  with  C.  D.  and  some  others,  met  to  keep  Christ- 
mas; and  they  played  at  cards,  drank  too  much,  and  in  the 
€nd  quarrelled,  and  raised  a  sort  of  riot.     And  when   I  re- 
monstrated with  him  on  his  conduct,'as  inconsistent  with  his 
professed  attention  to  religion,  his  answer  was.  There  is  no 
harm  in  cards:  Mr.  Scotf  plays  at  cards!' — This  smote  me 
to  the   heart.     I  saw  that,    if  I  played  at  cards,  however 
soberly  and  quietly,  the  people  would  be  encouraged   by 
my  example  to  go  further:  and,  if  St.  Paul  would  eat  nojlesh 
^hile  the  world  stood,  rather  than   cause  his  weak  brother  to 
offend,  it  would  be   inexcusable    in    me    to    throw  such  a 
fitumbling-block  in  the   way  of  my  parishoners,  in  a  matter 
certainly  neither  needful  nor  expedient.     So  far  from  being 
offended  at  the  hint  thus  given  me,  I  felt  very  thankful  to 
my  faithful  monitor,  and  promised  her  that  she  should  ne'ver 
have  occasion  to  repeat  the  admonition.  *  That  very  even- 
ing I  related  the  whole  matter  to  the  company,  and  de<;;Iared 
my  tixed  resolution  never  to  play  at  cards  again.  1  expected 
that  I  should  be  harassed  with  solicitations;  but  I  was  never 
asked  to  play  afterwards.     Let  me  therefore  from  my  own 
experience,  as   well  as  from  the  reason   of  the  case,  urge 
persons  from  their  first  entrance  upon  a  religious  course, 
when  asked  to  do  any  thing  which  they  disapprove,  fairly  to 
state  their  disapprobation  as   a  point    of  conscience.     For 
not  only  is  this  most  becoming  those  in  whom  there  is  no  guile^ 
but  it  is  also  by  far  the  most  prudent  proceeding.    If  they  ^s^ 


92  AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.         [Chap.  V. 

sign  reasons  drawn  only  from  local  and  temporary  circum- 
stances, when  those  circumstances  are  changed,  they  will 
he  pressed  again  and  again  with  redoubled  earnestness; 
whereas,  if  they  once  fairly  declare  their  refusal  to  be  the 
result  of  deliberate  consideration,  and  the  dictate  of  con- 
science, the  hope  of  prevailing  upon  them  will  be  given  up, 
and  they  will  save  themselves  great  trouble  and  danger. 

''Let  me  also  observe,  that  the  minister,  who  would  not 
have  his  people  give  into  such  worldly  conformity  as  he 
disapproves,  must  keep  at  a  considerable  distance  from  it 
himself  If  he  walk  near  the  brink,  others  will  fall  down 
the  precipice. — When  I  first  attended  seriously  to  religion, 
I  used  sometimes,  when  I  had  a  journey  to  perform  on  the 
next  day,  to  ride  a  stage  in  the  evening,  after  the  services 
of  the  sabbath;  and  I  trust  my  time  on  horseback  was  not 
spent  unprofitably.  But  I  soon  found  that  this  furnished  an 
excuse  to  some  of  my  parishioners,  for  employing  a  consid- 
erable part  of  the  Lord's  day  in  journies  of  business  or 
convenience.  I  need  scarcely  add,  that  1  immediately 
abandoned  the  practice.,  on  the  same  ground  on  which  I 
resolved  never  more  to  play  at  cards,  even  before  I  thought 
so  unfavorably  of  them  as  I  now  do. 

"In  this  connexion  I  may  take  occasion  to  mention  my 
estrangement  from  another  favorite  diversion,  at  a  still  ear- 
lier period.  In  the  former  part  of  my  hfe,  I  had  been  ex- 
travagantly fond  of  seeing  plays  acted, "even  in  the  rude 
manner  in  which  they  are  performed  in  country  places. 
Hence  I  anticipated  the  highest  pleasure  from  visiting  a 
London  theatre.  But  I  never  went  more  than  once:  for  I 
witnessed  so  much  folly  and  wickedness,  and  heard  so  much 
profaneness  and  ribaldry,  both  from  the  stage  and  in  other 
parts  of  the  theatre,  that  I  resolved,  on  leaving  the  house, 
never  to  go  to  a  play  again. — Yet  this  was  in  April  1773, 
before  my  mind  was  in  any  material  degree  turned  towards 
religion,  and  nearly  five  years  previously  to  my  giving  up 
cards.* 

"My  unreserved,  and  often,  no  doubt,  forward  and  rash 
avov/al  of  the  change  which  had  taken  place  in  my  relig- 
ious views  and  purposes,  soon  induced  most  of  my  former 
acquaintances  to  avoid  me.  Thus  1  escaped  hearing  the 
scoffs  and    reproaches  which  were   uttered  against  me  in 

*  I  would  refer  the  reader  for  the  most  forcible  observations  on  the 
theatre,  that  1  have  any  where  met  with,  to  Mr.  FeHrsou's  Life  of  Mr. 
iley,  part  ii.  p.  ii42,  Ssc. 


1^777—1779.]     AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  93 

abundance  behind  my  back;  and  was  also  exempted  from 
many  temptations:  but,  perhaps,  I  at  the  same  time  lost 
some  openings  for  usefulness,  which  might  have  been  af- 
forded me.  One  clergyman,  however,  who  possessed  more 
doctrinal  knowledge  than  many,  and  with  whom  I  had  beea 
somewhat  intimate,  would  not  thus  give  me  up. — My  time 
was  much  occupied  with  study  and  the  preparation  of  ser- 
mons; (for  I  preached  and  lectured  five  times  in  the  week, 
— three  of  which  were  gratuitous  services;)  so  that  trifling 
visitors  were  very  unwelcome:  but,  as  this  clergyman  fre- 
quently visited  at  Mrs.  Throcmorton's  (the  Roman  catholic 
family  resident  in  the  village,)  when  he  had  nothing  to  en- 
gage him  at  the  Hall,  he  used  to  call  on  me  in  the  fore- 
noons, and  try  to  enter  into  dispute  with  me  on  the  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel;  especially  the  high  points  usually  de- 
nominated Calvinistic.  Finding  this  very  unprofitable,  I  one 
day  said  to  him:  'You  are  not,  I  presume,  aware.  Sir,  that 
we  differ  more  in  our  sentiments  on  practical  subjects,  than 
even  with  respect  to  these  doctrines.'  So  far  from  allowing 
this,  he  maintained,  that  on  such  subjects  we  were  perfectly 
agreed:  while  I,  to  support  my  position,  read  him  a  lecture 
on  the  duties  of  a  clergyman,  according  to  my  views  of  them. 
I  pointed  out  what  the  minister's  motives  and  aim  ought  to 
be;  and  how  his  time  ought  to  be  divided,  between  his 
studies  (especially  the  study  of  the  holy  scriptures,)  and 
private  devotion;  preparing  his  sermons;  catechizing  chil- 
dren; instructing  the  ignorant;  visiting  the  sick;  and  con- 
versing with  his  people.  I  hence  inferred,  that  the  con- 
sistent clergyman  could  have  no  time  to  spare  for  unprofit- 
able visits  and  vain  diversions;  and  but  little  for  any  visits, 
except  in  subserviency  to  religious  edification  and  useful- 
ness. 'And  now,  Sir,'  I  said  at  the  conclusion,  'do  we  not 
differ  on  this  practical  subject,  at  least  as  much  as  respeot- 
ing  justification  or  election?'  He  had  no  answer  to  make; 
and  he  never  more  came  to  interrupt  my  studies.  I  am  sorry 
to  add,  that  no  further  good  effect  was  produced. 

"My  vicar  at  Ravenstone,  in  proportion  as  1  became  more 
decided  in  my  views,  and  especially  more  instant  in  preach- 
ing, increasing  the  length,  as  well  as  the  frequency,  of  my 
sermons;  both  of  his  own  instance,  and  as  excited  by  others, 
shewed  more  marked  opposition  to  my  proceedings.  Some- 
times his  opposition  assumed  an  angry  and  menacing  form, 
and,  alas!  more  than  once  produced  in  me  reciprocal  anger: 
yet  my  arguments  from  our  Liturgy  and  Articles  always 


94  AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.         [Chap.  V. 

proved  to  him  unanswerable.  At  other  times  his  tone  was 
more  playful  and  jocose.  One  day  he  remonstrated  with 
me  on  the  length  of  my  sermons,  (which  fell  not  much  short 
of  an  hour;)  and  he  met  *'oned  by  name  several  clergymen 
who  preached  twenty,  fifteen,  twelve,  or  even  ten  minutes. 
My  answer  was,  that  I  feared  they  were  in  jest;  but  I  was 
in  earnest. — On  another  occasion  he  objected  to  my  writing 
so  many  new  sermons;  principally,  I  believe,  because  he 
had  been  used  to  be  diverted  by  my  company,  and  my  time 
was  now  otherwise  engaged.  He  observed  that,  for  his 
own  part,  when  he  was  ordained,  he  had  written  fifty-four 
or  fifty-five  sermons,  and  they  had  served  him  very  well 
ever  since, — though  he  had  been  above  fifty  years  in  or- 
ders. I  remarked,  that-  I  hoped  he  had,  during  that  long 
period,  grown  much  wiser:  but  that  he  had  effectually  pre- 
cluded his  people  from  profiting  by  his  improvement! 

"In  this  way,  sometimes  by  argument,  and  sometimes  by 
replies  half  serious  and  half  playful,  I  maintained  my  ground: 
till  at  length  the  old  gentleman  was  so  impressed  by  what 
he  heard  and  saw,  that  he  forbore,  for  a  time,  all  opposi- 
tion; vindicated  me  against  censure;  wept  frequently  under 
my  sermons;  and  was  found  uniformly,  when  v/e  called 
upon  him,  reading  the  scriptures:  so  that  the  most  sanguine 
hopes  were  entertained  concerning  him.  But,  alas!  it  was 
the  morning  cloud,  and  the  early  dew  which  passeth  azvay. 
Tiie  whole  gradually  wore  off,  and  terminated  in  a  sort  of 
sceptical,  sneering  apathy-  He  continued,  however,  much 
attached  to  me,  and  did  not  object  to  my  views  of  Chris- 
tianity; and  I  only  speak  what  many  thought  and  said,  when 
I  state,  that  it  seemed  probable,  that,  by  a  little  politic  man- 
agement, I  might  have  inherited  his  property.  But  by  na- 
ture 1  was  too  proud  for  such  an  attempt;  and,  I  hope, 
through  grace  I  was  become  too  conscientious  to  make  the 
requisite  concessions.  I  however  retained  the  curacy,  till, 
much  against  his  wishes,  I  voluntarily  resigned  it. 

"After  some  time  a  house  at  Weston  belonging  to  Mr.  C. 
Higgins  became  vacant,  and  was  oflered  me  at  less  than 
half  the  rent*  (of  12/.)  which  I  had  previously  paid:  and 
1  accordingly  removed  to  it. — In  this  village  two  sons  were 
born  to  me,  one  of  whom  died  an  infant,  and  the  other,  of 
the  same  name,  (Thomas,)  is  now  minister  of  the  episcopal 
chapel  of  Gawcott,  in  the   parish  of  Buckingham.     Some 

*  In  fact  Mr.  II.  took  no  rent  of  me,  bnt  a  hamper  of  pears,  annually, 
'  $:ora  a  fiue  ti-ee  ialhe  garden,  for  which  he  regularly  sent  me  a  receipt. 

m 


1777—1780.]  LETTERS.  95 

time  after  I  removed  to  the  house  just  mentioned,  I  had  three 
children  hving:  but  two  were  taken  from  me  within  a  very 
short  time,  and  John,  the  only  surviving  one,  was  so  dan- 
gerously ill,  that  his  life  was  not  expected.  My  heart  was 
overwhelmed:  but,  after  very  much  prayer,  I  felt  my  will 
submissive,  and  was  resigned  to  part  with  him  also,  unless  it 
should  please  God  to  spare  him  to  do  some  good  in  the 
world.  He  shortly  after  recovered;  and,  I  trust,  was  spared 
for  usefulness. — But  I  have  here  anticipated;  as  some  things, 
about  to  be  stated,  occurred  before  these  events." 

In  the  last-mentioned  incident,  my  dear  father  records 
what  deeply  and  lastingly  affected  his  own  mind,  and  what 
he  has  often,  in  relating  it,  made  affecting  to  the  minds 
of  others — particularly  of  him  who  now  remarks  upon  it. 
Neither  was  it  forgotten  amid  the  solemnities  of  his  dying 
bed.  May  the  prayers  offered  up  under  the  pressure  of 
the  affliction,  and  often,  no  doubt,  repeated  afterwards 
through  succeeding  years,  be  much  more  abundantly  an- 
swered than  they  have  ever  yet  been! 

He  adds,  "In  this  situation  I  wrote  and  published  the 
'Force  of  Truth;'  which  was  revised  by  Mr.  Cowper, 
and,  as  to  style  and  externals,  but  not  otherwise,  consid- 
erably improved  by  his  advice." 

On  this  publication,  which  has  already  been  repeatedly 
referred  to,  I  shall  here  make  no  further  remark,  than 
that  the  first  edition  is  dated  February  26,  1779;  defer- 
ring, with  respect  to  it,  as  I  shall  do  with  respect  to  my 
father's  other  works,  whatever  observations  I  may  have 
to  offer,  to  the  close  of  these  memoirs. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

LETTERS  BELONGING  TO  THE  PERIOD  OF  THE  PRECEDING  CHAP- 
TER. 

Here  again  it  may  be  proper  to  suspend  a  little  the  pro- 
gress of  the  narration,  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  to 
i  the  reader's  notice  extracts^  of  several  letters,  bearing  upon 
l}  the  events,  or  pertaining  to  the  times,  which  we  have 
;  j  been  reviewing. — The  following  relate  to  the  deaths  which 
;j  have  been  mentioned,  and  some  others  with  which,  about 
I  this  periodj  my  father's  family  was  visited. 


96  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

To  my  mother's  sister,  dated  October  19,  1779:  '''I  have 
to  inform  you  that  it  has  pleased  the  Lord,  who  gave,  also 
to   take  away  from  us   our  youngest  boy,  your  husband's 
godson;  and  thereby  to  discharge  both  him  and  us  from  our 
trust.     After  a  lingering  and  wasting  disorder,  in  which  the 
poor  thing  appeared  to  suffer  very  much,  he  was   released 
from  this  world  of  sin  and  sorrow,  and,  I  doubt  not,  joined  the 
blessed  assembly  above,  to  unite  in  their  song  of  praise  to 
Him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne^  and  to  the  Lamb  that  was  slain^ 
and  hath  redeemed  them  to  God  by  his  blood.     He  died  on  the 
morning  of  September  25th.     Nature  will  feel  and  heave 
the  anxious  sigh,  but   faith  looks  within  the   veil,   beholds 
the  happy  deliverance,  approves,  and  rejoices:  and  I  trust 
we  both  are  enabled  to  say  from  our  hearts,  The  Lord  gave, 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away:  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord. 
— So  long  as  the  poor  infant  was  amongst  the  number  of  the 
sufferers,  it   was  a  sharp  trial  to  us  both;  but  when  he  was 
released,  I   believe,  in    our  better  judgment,  we  both  re- 
joiced.— But  I  am  speaking  all   these  things  to  one  who 
knows  not  experimentally  a  parent's  heart,  and,  if  I  can 
judge  by  myself,  and  my  way  of  thinking  before  I   was  a 
parent,  I  can  fancy  you   saying,  '•  There  is  no  such   great 
loss,    nor    such   a    mighty    resignation,    in  being  willing 
to  part  with  a  little  infant,  that  seems  well  out  of  the  way.' 
Thus   I    used    to  think:    but  it    comes  nearer  a  parent's 
heart  than  you  can  imagine:  and  it  would  be  no  easy  matter 
to  me  to  resign  patiently  to  this  loss,  were  it  not,  that  I  as- 
suredly beUeve  that,  as  the  Lord  knows  best  what  is  good 
for  me,  so  he  is  engaged  by  promise  to  make  all  work  to- 
gether for  my  good;  and  were  I  not  also  assured  (which  too 
often  one  cannot  be  concerning  deceased  persons,)  that  he 
is  now  a  blessed  spirit  in  heaven;  from  whence,  if  they  in 
heaven  have  knowledge  of  the  concerns  of  those  they  leave 
behind,  he  looks  down,  with  a  mixture  of  pity  and  astonish- 
ment, to  see  us  so  ignorantly,  I  had  almost  said,  enviously, 
wishing  him    a  sharer  of  our  vain  enjoyments,   embitter- 
ed with  numberless  sorrows,  and  defiled  by  continual  sins. — 
Death  has  been    very   busy  indeed    of  late   in  my  family. 
Within  about  six  years   I  have  lost  my  father  and  mother, 
two  own  sisters,  two  brothers-in-law,  an  own  aunt,  a  nephew, 
and  a  son.      These    are   remembrancers  to  me  to  take 
heed,  be  ready,  watch  and  pray,  for  I  know  not  when  the 
time  is.     As  such  losses  loosen  our  hearts  gradually  from  the 
world,  so  they  also  make  us  feel  ourselves  dying  creatures. 


1777—1780]  LETTERS.  ^7 

Hearing  of  one,  and  then  another,  and  then  another  taken 
off  hy  such  unexpected  strokes,  I  seem  to  wonder  at  myself, 
that  I  am  yet  spared;  and  to  fancy  I  see  death  brandishing 
his  lance  over  my  head,  ready  to  strike  the  fatal  blow.  I 
feel  to  stand  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  ready  by  the 
slightest  touch  to  be  thrown  down  into  eternity.  I  seem  to 
hear  a  voice  behind  me  saying.  Prepare  to  meet  thy  God. — I 
bless  the  Lord,  this  fills  me  with  no  uneasy,  anxious 
thoughts.  Through  grace,  I  trust  that,  having  as  a  poor 
sinner,^ecZ  for  refuge  to  the  hope  set  before  us  in  a  crucified 
Savior,  through  the  sprinkling  of  his  most  precious  blood, 
my  soul  is  cleansed  from  the  guilt  of  all  its  sins;  and  that  I 
have  the  experience  of  what  is  meant  by  the  sanctification 
of  the  spirit  unto  obedience;  and  can  join  with  Peter,  1st  Ep. 
i,  2 — 4,  (to  which  I  refer  you,)  and  therefore  can  say,  //c/toiu 
thut^  when  this  earthly  house  of  my  tabernacle  shall  be  dissolved^ 
I  have  a  building  ofGod^  a  house  not  made  with  hands^  eternal  in 
the  heavens.  And,  as  to  those  that  belong  to  me,  though  they 
are  my  closest  tie  to  hfe,  I  can  nevertheless  leave  them  with 
satisfaction  in  the  hands  of  that  God,  who  hath  fed  me  all  my 
life  long,  and  who  hath  said.  Leave  thy  fatherless  children  with 
me^  and  I  will  preserveihemalive;  and  let  thy  widows  trust  in  me. 
— However,  you  will  observe  that  1  am  at  present  in  a  very 
tolerable  state  of  health,  and  no  more  like  dying,  than  at  any 
other  time  in  my  whole  life;  and,  though  we  may  not  argue 
from  such  reasons,  yet  I  sometimes  fancy,  that  the  Lord  has 
somewhat  more  for  me  to  do,  before  he  takes  me  to  that  rest 
reserved  for  the  people  of  God. — However,  this  habitual 
frame  of  mind,  which  my  own  frequent  sickness,  and  so  many 
instances  of  mortality  have  brought  me  into,  dolh  very  much 
mortify  me  to  this  world,  and  I  cannot  but  wonder  to  think 
of  my  former  castle-building  frame  of  mind,  when,  with 
eager  hopes  and  sanguine  expectations,!  was  forming  schemes 
of  satisfying  and  durable  happiness  in  such  a  vain  uncertain 
world.  My  dreams  and  visions  are  now  vanished  like  a  morn- 
ing cloud.  1  find  now  that  neither  riches,  nor  preferment, 
nor  reputation,  nor  pleasure,  nor  any  worldly  good,can  afford 
that  happiness  I  was  seeking.  I  bless  the  Lord,  1  did  not 
discover  the  cheat,  nor  lose  the  shadow,  before  1  found  the 
substance.  I  did  not  discover  all  else  to  be  vanity  and  vex- 
ation of  spirit,  until  i  found  out  that  to  fear  God  and  keep 
his  commandfnents  is  the  whole  of  man.  Oh  how  many 
thousands,  that,  like  him  in  the  Gospel  who  never  lifted 
up  his  eyes  till  in  hell,  never  find  their  sad  mistake  till  it 
9 


98  LETTERS,  [Chap.  VL 

is  too  late!  When  I  look  around  upon  a  busy,  bustling  world, 
eagerly  pursuing  vanity  and  courting  disappointment,  neg- 
lecting nothing  so  much  as  the  one  thing  needtul;  and  who, 
in  order  to  have  their  portion nn  this  life,  disregard  the 
world  to  come,  and  only  treasure  up  wrath  against  the  day 
of  wrath;  it  makes  me  think  of  a  farmer,  who  should,  with 
vast  labor,  cultivate  his  lan^ds,  and  gather  in  his  crop,  and 
thresh  it  out,  and  separate  the  corn  from  the  chaff,  and 
then  sweep  the  corn  out  upon  the  dunghill,  and  carefully 
lay  by  the  chaif !  Such  a  person  would  be  supposed  mad: 
but  how  faint  a  shadow  would  this  be  of  his  madness,  who 
labors  for  the  meat  that  perisheth,  but  neglects  that  which 
endureth  unto  everlasting  life! — This  is  all  unpremeditated: 
I  must  leave  you  to  apply  it.  It  is  a  madness  the  whole 
race  of  men  labors  under,  unless  and  until  divine  grace 
works  the  cure:  until  it  may  be  said  of  us,  as  of  the  return- 
ing prodigal,  When  he  came  to  himself  he  said^  4*c. — You 
will  excuse,  I  hope,  the  mention  of  such  important  subjects. 
My  only  apology  is,  that  we  are  creatures  ibrmed  for  eter- 
nity: and  my  wish  and  prayer  are,  that,  whether  we  meet 
on  earth  or  not,  we  may  spend  eternity  together  in  heaven. 
If  we  are  all  in  the  right  way,  we  do  well  to  encourage 
and  quicken  one  another;  and,  if  otherwise,  the  sooner  we 
set  out  the  better." 

The  following  passages  relate  to  a  death  which  still  more 
deeply  aifected  him. 

To  his  elder  sister,  May  30,  1780.  "The  occasion  of 
my  writing  is  to  inform  you,  that  the  Lord  has  been  pleased 
to  take  my  poor  dear  daughter  from  me  by  a  sudden  stroke. 
She  was  in  perfect  health,  and  a  breathless  corpse,  within 
less  than  eighteen  hours.  ...  A  sweeter  child  and  dearer 
to  her  parents'  hearts  could  scarcely  be:  and,  whilst  I  look- 
ed upon  her  promising  advances  in  knowledge,  and  appa- 
rently Christian  converse,  tempers,  and  conduct,  (which 
were  almost  incredible,)  1  promised  myself  great  comfort 
in  her;  and  did  not  understand,  that  the  Lord,  by  bringing 
her  forward  so  very  much  beyond  her  years,  was  only 
preparing  her  for  himself,  and  ripening  her  for  glory. — But 
I  shall  say  no  more  of  her.  If  ever  we  meet,  and  you  de- 
sire it,  I  can  give  you  an  account  of  such  things  concerning 
her,  as  will  surprise  you.     Tliis  is  my  great  comfort." 

It  will  no  doubt  surprise  the  reader  to  be  informed,  that 
this  is  written  concernmga  child  only  four  years  and  a  half 
old^    But  it  is  impUed  that  the  case  was  extraordinary:  m)' 


3777—1780.]  LETTERS.  99 

father  always  considered  it  as  the  most  remarkable  that 
had  fallen  under  his  own  observation;  and  he  has  left  a  short 
memorial  of  it,  which  will  be  annexed  to  the  present  pub- 
Mcation.  But  I  here  subjoin  an  extract  of  another  letter,  to 
which  the  preceding  gave  occasion. 

To  same,  July  6,    1780.     "Concerning  my  poor  dear 

babe truly  I  grieved,  and  felt  more  than  ever  I  felt 

before  of  that  grief,  which  springs  from  being  bereaved  of 
one  much  beloved:  and  my  heart  bleeds,  if  1  may  thus 
speak,  at  every  remembrance  of  her.  But  I  do  not  grieve 
as  one  without  hope:  hope  of  meeting  her  in  glory,  and 
spending  a  joyful  eternity  together. — I  do  not  grieve  so  as 
to  indulge  grief  or  complaining,  or  think  (with  Jonah,)  I  do 
well  to  be  nngry^  because  my  darling  gourd  is  withered. 
God  hath  done  well,  and  wisely,  and  graciously;  and,  whilst 
my  heart  is  pained,  my  judgment  is  satisfied.  I  do  not  now 
wish  it  otherwise.  She  might  have  lived,  in  some  way  or 
other,  to  have  filled  my  soul  with  unmixed  bitterness,  and 
to  have  brought  down  my  grey  hairs  (if  I  live  to  grey  hairs,) 
with  sorrow  to  the  grave. — I  do  not  grieve  so  as  not  to  re- 
joice: rejoice  to  recollect  what  I  cannot  now  particularize 
of  her  amazing  understanding  and  answers,  teachableness 
and  conscientiousness;  which  makes  me  not  doubt  that  she 
was,  in  a  measure,  hke  John  the  Baptist,  taught  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  from  her  mother's  womb:  for  none  could  speak 
and  act  as  she  did  but  by  the  Holy  Ghost: — rejoice,  to  think 
that  1  have  two  children  adopted  into  God's  family,  taken 
home  to  his  house,  and  filled  with  his  love.  It  is  a  high 
honor,  and  I  ought  to  rejoice  in  it.  Dearly  as  I  love  my 
only  remaining  babe,  and  much  as  1  long  to  keep  him,  I  had 
rather  see  him  die,  as  my  poor  dear  girl  did,  than  live  rich 
and  honored,  without  he  live  the  life  of  a  true  Christian. — 
She  has  got  free  from  all  that  I  long  to  be  dehvered  from; 
and  has  attained  all  I  am  longing  for.  /  shall  go  to  her^  but 
she  shall  not  return  to  mc. — You  mention  the  supposed  loss  of 
your  sweet  babes.  Whilst  I  pray  God  to  preserve  them 
to  you,  and  you  to  them,  1  cannot  but  advise  you  to  rejoice 
in  them  with  trembling,  and  to  be  often  preparing,  in  think- 
ing and  praying  concerning  it,  for  a  separation:  for  we  are 
tenants  at  will  concerning  all  our  comforts. — When  you 
call  them  sweet  innocent  creatures,  I  hope  you  only  mean 
comparatively,  and  to  our  apprehensions;  not  forgetting 
the  wordsof  our  Catechism,  that  we  are  'born  in  sin,  and 
tt^je  children  of  wrath.'     Tke  youngest  needs  the  blood  of 


100  .  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

Christ  to  wash  away  the  guilt,  and  the  Spirit  of  Christ  to 
cleanse  away  the  pollution  of  sin,  and  they  should  be  taught, 
as  soon  as  they  know  any  thing,  to  consider  themselves  as 
sinners,  and  to  pray  for  the  pardon  of  sin,  and  a  new  heart 
and  nature,  in  and  through  Jesus  Christ.  This  my  poor 
babe'  did  by  herself  alone,  as  duly  as  the  morning  and  eve- 
ning came. — But  enough,  and  probably  too  much  of  this, 
which  I  hope  you  will  not  take  ill  .  .  .  ." 

One  of  the  "brothers-in-law,"  of  whose  death  mention 
has  been  made  in  the  above  extracts,  was  the  husband  of 
my  father's  eldest  sister,  Mrs.  Webster,  to  whom  so  many 
of  his  letters  are  addressed.  She  had  been  married  only 
tive  years,  and  was  now  left  (September,  1779,)  with  two 
children,  and  the  near  prospect  of  the  birth  of  a  third;  be- 
sides many  other  difficulties  to  struggle  with.  These  cir- 
cumstances, of  so  beloved  a  relative,  naturally  called  forth 
all  the  tender  sympathies  of  my  father's  heart;  and  he 
wrote  to  her  several  letters  full  of  affectionate  condolence, 
and  wise  and  Christi-m  counsel.  Some  of  them  1  should 
with  pleasure  insert,  were  1  not  restrained  by  the  fear  of 
extendmg  my  extracts  beyond  due  bounds. 

We  have  seen  the  spirit  with  which  my  father,  at  this 
period,  bore  severe  trials  of  one  class;  I  shall  next  furnish 
specimens  of  the  temper  which  he  manifested  under  those 
of  another  description. 

Intimations  have  already  appeared,  that  the  change, which 
had  taken  place  in  his  religious  views,  was  not  agreeably 
to  others  of  his  family  besides  his  deceased  father.  In  this 
respect  he,  for  a  considerable  time,  suffered  an  affliction, 
in  which,  as  in  almost  all  others,  those  who  are  exercised 
with  it,  may  derive  comfort  from  reflecting,  that  the  divine 
Redeemer  learned  by  experience  to  sympathize  with  his 
followers.  Of  him  it  is  written,  "Neither  did  his  brethren 
believe  is  him."  Happily  there  is  the  less  reason,  in  the 
present  instance,  for  being  restrained  by  dehcacy  from  ad- 
verting to  this  subject,  because  all  the  parties  referred  to 
were  ultimately  brought  to  an  acquiescence  in  their  broth- 
er's sentiments;  and  those,  in  particular,  with  whom  we  are 
here  most  concerned,  eventually  bore  that  regard  for  his 
character,  and  that  love  to  his  principles,  that  I  am  per- 
suaded they  would  have  wished  nothing  to  be  withheld 
which  might  advantageously  illustrate  the  one,  or  tend  to 
promote  the  other;  even  though  it  should  cast  a  little  pass- 
ing blame  upon  themselves,        • 


1777—1780.]  LETTERS.  101 

A  letter  of  October  13,  1778,  to  his  eldest  sister,  which 
makes  mention  of  "a  very  bad  and  dangerous  illness  after 
his  return  from  London,"  and  also  of  'binding  so  much 
writing  very  prejudicial  to  his  health,"  contains  further  in- 
timations of  the  kind  alluded  to;  and  at  the  same  time  well 
illustrates  the  very  prudent  and  proper  course  which  he 
pursued,  and  which  indeed  the  progress  of  his  own  mind 
naturally  suggested  to  him,  in  treating  with  his  correspon- 
dent upon  the  subject  nearest  his  heart. 

'•You  seemed  to  think,  when  you  were  with  us,  that  I 
wanted  to  impose  a  set  of  notions  upon  you  in  reUgion:  but 
that  is  not  my  aim.  If  you  ask  me  what  my  belief  is,  I  am 
willing  to  declare  it:  but  otherwise  I  have  no  ambition  to 
make  proselytes  to  an  opinion.  My  design  is  to  make  con- 
verts to  the  substantial  duties  of  a  religious  and  godly  litet 
to  persuade  people  that  eternity  is  of  most  consequence: 
that  they  ought  not  to  be  so  careful  and  troubled  about 
many  things,  as  to  neglect  the  one  thing  needful:  that  our 
religion  is  cdl  contained  in  the  Bible:  that  vye  ought  to  read 
that  book  not  only  to  learn  what  to  do,  but  what  to  believe: 
that  God  is  the  g\ver  of  wisdom;  the  Holy  Spirit  the  teacher 
of  the  truth:  that,  belbre  we  understand  the  scripture 
aright,  we  must  have  our  minds  opened  and  prepared  by 
the  Spirit  of  God — for  the  natural  man  receiveth  not  the 
Ihings  of  the  Spirit  of  God^  for  they  are  foolishness,  unto  hiniy 
neither  can  he  kno-jo  them^  because  they  are  sjiiritualUj  discern- 
ed:— in  short,  that  we  are  to  trust  in  the  Lord  •zvith  all  our 
hearty  and  not  to  lean  to  our  ozn^n  understanding:  that  there- 
fore we  ought  to  be  constant  in  prayer  to  God,  that  he 
would  teach  us  the  true  way  of  salvation — for  his  secret  is 
loiih  the m  that  fear  him^  and  he  wilt  shew  them  his  covejiani; 
— that  he  would  preserve  us  from  mistake,  lead  us  to  know 
his  truth,  free  us  from  prejudice,  and  pride,  and  give  us  thit 

true  wisdom  which  is  from  above. Three  years  and  a 

half  I  have  day  by  day,  and  many  times  a  day,  done  this. 
Since  I  did  so,  I  have  found  myself  much  changed  in  my 
views  and  notions  of  religion:  and,  as  I  am  comfortably  as- 
sured that  the  Lord  hath  heard  and  answered  my  prayers; 
and  as  I  not  only  feel  the  effect  of  it  in  myself,  but  see  the 
effect  of  the  alteration  of  my  preaching,  in  the  very  wonder- 
ful change  of  many  profligate  sinners  10  a  sober,  righteous, 
and  godly  Ufe;  I  therefore,  wherein  I  suppose  I  was  before 
wrong  myself, hint  it  to  you  and  others  dear  to  me.  If  you 
think  (Uffereatly  from  me,  you  canuot  deny  that  the  means 
*9 


im  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

I  prescribe  are  right,  safe,  scriptural,  and  a  duty.  There 
I  leave  it.  I  profess  to  believe  it  the  Lord's  work:  when  I 
have  used  the  means,  I  leave  it  to  him:  and  my  daily,  and 
more  than  daily  prayer  for  you,  all  and  every  one,  is,  that 
the  Lord  would  set  you  right  where  wrong;  teach  you 
where  ignorant;  guide  you  to  the  knowledge  of  his  saving- 
truth;  and  fulfil  all  his  gracious  promises,  spiritual  and  tem- 
poral, to  your  souls  and  bodies. — I  should  be  glad  if  you 
would  say  a  few  words  on  this  subject:  if  not,  I  must  be 
satisfied  to  leave  it  where  it  is.  We  any  of  us  may  be  wrong, 
and  therefore  we  ought  not  to  be  too  sure  we  are  right; 
for  confidence  is  no  mark  of  wisdom.  It  is  worth  our  in- 
quiry and  our  prayer,  and  you  will  not  find  me  hasty  to  dic- 
tate." 

In  a  subsequent  letter,  December  15,  1779,  while  he  an- 
ticipates her  coming  to  the  same  views  with  him,  he  wisely 
says,  "I  have  no  expectation  that  this  will  be  brought  about 
in  the  way  of  argumentation  and  dispute,  which  generally 
do  too  much  rifle  the  passions,  to  leave  the  mind  open  to 
an  impartial  reception  of  the  truth."  He  rather  expects 
'•that,  under  the  guidance  and  secret  teaching  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  gradually  opening  her  understanding  to  understand 
the  scriptures,  and  disclosing  more  and  more  what  passes 
in  her  own  heart,  and  what  is  revealed  in  the  Bible,  she 
will  seem  to  discover  it  of  herself" 

And  in  a  third,  dated  a  month  afterwards,  he  says,  "Your 
letter,  th- ugh  written  not  without  suspicions  that  I  should 
disapprove  it,  is  the  most  comfortable  one  I  have  ever  re- 
ceived from  you  since  my  views  of  religion  were  changed; 
as  it  leaves  me  little  doubt  that  the  Lord  is  leading  you,  in 
the  same  gradual  manner  he  led  me,  to  a  spiritual  and  esr 
perimental  acijuaintance  with  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus!" 

Yet,  still  later  than  this,  he  mournfully  laments  the  neg- 
lect into  which  he  had  fallen  with  his  relations  on  account 
of  his  religious  principles;  not  excepting  even  those  sisters 
with  whom  he  had  long  maintained  such  full  and  intimate 
correspondence.  "It  is  no  small  concern  te  me,"  he  says, 
"that  you,  and  indeed  ail  my  relations,  shouM  have  entirely 
forgotten  that  there  is  such  a  person  as  1  am.  If  indeed 
you  do  think  me  mistaken,  then  pray  for  me  that  the  Lord 
may  set  me  right,  and  recover  me;  and  now  and  then  let 
me  hear  something  from  you,  if  you  be  weary  of  mentioning 
religion. — Indeed  I  do  not  forget  you,  not  a  day  passes  but 
I  make  mention  of  you  m  my  prayers,  nor  a  post-night 


1777—1780.]  LETTERS.  103 

comes,  but  it  occurs  to  my  mind,  that  formerly  I  used  to 
hear  from  you.  ...  I  long  to  hear  of  your  welfare,  and 
should  be  glad  to  contribute  to  it;  nor  do  I  yet  despair,  that 
we  shall  one  day  be  of  one  mind  where  we  most  differ:  for 
I  do  most  sincerely  beseech  the  Lord  to  lead  me  right 
wherever  I  mistake,  and  to  lead  you  right  wherever  you 
mistake;  and  I  beg  of  you  to  make  the  same  request.  And 
I  hope  he  regards  and  will  answer:  and  then,  wherever  we 
are  either  of  us  wrong,  we  shall  both  be  brought  right  at 
last,  and  meet  like-minded  in  heaven." 

And  yet  again:  "When  I  receive  no  answer  for  a  long 
time,  I  cannot  but  be  discouraged,  and  led  to  suspect  that 
the  reason  why  my  friends  do  not  write  is,  that  they  do  not 
desire  my  letters;  and  this  keeps  me  from  writing  except  I 
have  business.  Otherwise  I  will  assure  you,  that  one  post- 
night  after  another  I  have  complained  with  a  sorrowful 
heart,  that  all  my  relations  were  weary  of  me." 

These  extracts,  and  several  things  which  have  preceded, 
may  perhaps  present  my  father  to  some  readers  in  a  new 
point  of  view.  A  certain  roughness  of  exterior  impressed 
many  persons  with  the  idea  that  he  was  harsh  and  severe. 
It  was  reserved  to  those  who  knew  him  more  intimately,  to 
be  fully  aware  how  kind  and  feeling  a  heart  he  carried 
within;  a  heart  which  Christian  principles,  while  they  forti- 
fied the  natural  firmness  of  his  character,  made  continually 
more  and  more  tender  and  affectionate,  and  that,  as  his 
latter  days  advanced,  to  a  degree  that  it  is  scarcely  possible 
to  express." 

But,  besides  this  effect  of  these  extracts,  I  willingly  prom- 
ise myself  that  they  may  prove,  in  various  w«js,  useful  to 
many  readers.  Some  may  be  taught  by  them  what  to  ex- 
pect, and  be  admonished  to  '■^count  their  cost,"  in  professing 
themselves  to  be  Christ's  disciples.  There  is  an  opposition 
in  the  human  heart  to  the  principles  of  his  religion,  really 
received  and  acted  upon,  which  no  bonds  of  relative  affec- 
tion can  overcome:  and  hence  he  assures  us,  that,  ''if  we 
love  father  or  mother  more  than  him,  we  cannot  be  his  dis- 
ciples." To  others,  they  may  suggest  important  hints  on 
the  proper  manner  of  conducting  themselves  under  trials  of 
this  kind.  Let  them  neither  be  "ashamed  of  Christ's 
words,"  nor  too  impetuously  obtrude  them  upon  unwilling 
hearers.  The  caution  will  be  doubly  needful,  towards  per- 
sons filling  the  superior  relations  in  life. — And  to  all  who 
we  eodeavoring  to  pursue  a  right  course  themselves,  and 


404  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

longing  after  beloved  relatives,  "in  the  bowels  of  Jesus 
Christ,"  these  passages,  compared  with  the  result,  which 
has  been  already  stated,  may  afford  great  encouragement. 
Let  them  always  remember  the  reply  of  the  Christian 
bishop,  to  the  weeping  mother  of  St.  Augustine,  "the  child 
of  so  many  prayers  can  never  be  lost!" 

But  the  most  pleasing  proof  of  the  happiness  as  well  as 
benevolence,  which  religion  diffused  over  my  father's  mind 
at  this  period,  is  furnished  by  a  letter  to  his  younger  sister, 
Mrs.  Ford,  dated  July  27,  1779. 

"Hitherto,"  he  says,  "I  have  kept  silence,  yea  even  from 
good  words:  but  it  was  pain  and  grief  to  me 1  would,  how- 
ever, once  more  remind  you,  that  you  have  a  brother — 
who  was  no  hypocrite  when  he  assured  you  that  he  loved 
you,  at  least  as  well  as  any  relation  that  he  had  in  the 
woeW,  his  wife  and  children  excepted;  that  your  interest 
and  welfare  were  always  near  to  his  heart;  that  he  would 
have  been  glad,  if  it  had  pleased  God,  to  have  had  it  in  his 
power  to  evidence  this  to  you  by  some  important  service: 
that  his  love  is  not  waxed  cold,  nor  in  the  least  diminished, 
but  the  contrary;  that  he  loves  you  as  well,  and  wishes  you 
better  than  ever;  and  that,  seeing  he  can  do  nothing  else, 
he  never  forgets,  in  his  daily  prayers,  to  commend  you 
and  yours,  soul  and  body,  to  the  love,  care,  and  blessing  of 
his  God  and  Savior. — Dear  sister,  I  can  truly  say  with  Paul, 
that  /  have  continual  sorrow  and  heaviness  in  my  hearty  for 
my  brethren  according  to  the  flesh:  but  on  account  of  none 
so  much  as  you.  All  the  rest,  though  not  seeing  with  my 
eyes,  are  friendly  and  civjl,  and  not  willing  quite  to  give 
me  up:  but  you  have  totally  turned  your  back  to  me: — 
the  favorite  sister,  whose  heart  seemed  as  closely  knit  to 
mine  by  the  dearest  and  most  confidential  friendship,  as  the 
nearest  relative  ties!  The  very  thought  brings  tears  into 
my  eyes,  and  I  weep  while  1  write  to  you  And  what  have 
I  done  to  offend  you? — It  has  pleased  the  Lord,  through  my 
Tstudy  of  his  word,  with  prayer  for  that  teaching  which  he 
hath  promised,  to  lead  me  to  a  different  view  of  the  gospel 
>€f  Jesus  Christ,  than  I  had  embraced:  and  not  only  so,  but 
to  lead  me  from  seeking  the  favor  of  the  world,  and  my 
own  glory,  to  seek  God's  favor,  aim  at  his  glory,  and  derive 
happiness  from  him.  A  happiness  I  have  therein  tasted,  to 
which  I  was  before  a  stranger — that  peace  of  God  which 
passeth  all  understandings  and  which  as  much  excels,  even 
m  tjiis  world,  any  thing  I  had  before  experienced,  as  the 


1777— nSO.]  LETTERS.  105 

cheering^  constant  light  of  the  noon-day  sun  exceeds  the 
short-lived  glare  of  a  flash  of  lightning,  which  leaves  the 
night  more  dark  and  gloomy  than  before.  Having  found 
that  good  I  had  long  been  seeking  in  vain,  I  was  desirous  to 
tell  all  J  loved,  in  proportion  as  I  loved  them,  what  the 
Lord  had  done  for  me,  and  how  he  had  had  mercy  on  me; 
that  they  might  find,  what  I  knew  they  too  were  seeking, 
true  happiness.  Cotne.,  taste  and  see  how  gracious  the  Lord 
w,  and  how  blessed  they  are  that  put  their  trust  in  him^  was 
the  language  of  my  heart.  But,  for  want  of  experience 
and  prudence,  forgetting  my  own  principle,  that  none  can 
come  to  Jesus  except  he  be  taught  of  God,  (John  vi, 
44 — 46,)  I  was  much  too  earnest,  and  in  a  hurry:  said  too 
much,  and  went  too  far:  and  thus,  out  of  my  abundant  love, 
surfeited  you.  Forgive  me  this  wrong!  It  was  well  meant, 
but  ill-judged,  and  worse  received.  O  my  dear  sister,  I 
wish  you  as  happy  as  I  am  myself,  and  I  need  wish  you  no 
happier  in  this  world.  To  call  God  my  father;  to  confide 
in  his  love;  to  realize  his  powerful  presence;  to  see  by 
faith  his  wisdom  choosing,  his  love  providing  for  me,  his 
arm  protecting  me;  to  find  him  (my  sins  notwithstanding,) 
reconciled  to  me,  and  engaged  to  bless  me;  to  view  him 
seated  on  a  throne  of  grace,  bowing  his  ear  to  my  poor 
prayers,  granting  my  requests,  supplying  my  wants,  sup- 
porting me  under  every  trial,  sweetening  and  sanctitying 
every  trouble,  manifesting  his  love  to  me,  and  comforting 
me  by  his  Holy  Spirit;  to  look  forward  to  Heaven  as  my 
home;  and  to  be  able  to  say  at  night,  when  I  go  to  rest,  If 
1  die  before  morning,  I  shall  be  with  my  gracious  Lord,  to 
enjoy  his  love  tor  ever:  This  is  my  happiness:  and  what  is 
there  in  the  world  worth  comparing  with  it? 

*Let  worldly  minds  the  world  pursue. 

It  has  no  charms  for  me; 
Once  1  admirM  its  trifles  too, 

But  grace  has  set  me  free.* 

— Peace  with  God,  peace  of  conscience,  peace  in  my  family, 
peace  with  all  around  me — these  are  the  blessings  of  peace 
which  God  gives  his  people.  JMay  God  give  them  to  you! 
— I  say  no  more  upon  doctrines:  only  search  the  scriptures, 
and  pray  to  be  taught  of  God. — If  I  have  said  too  much  this 
time  on  the  subject,  I  will  say  less  next  letter.  Only  ac» 
knowledge  me  as  a  brother,  and  do  not  quite  disown  me  as 


106  LETTERS.  [Chap.  Vl. 

an  incorrig-ible  fanatic,  because  I  believe  the  scriptures,  and 
exhort  you  to  read  them,  and  pray  to  understand  them.  .  . 

"I  have  written  a  book,  now  in  the  press,  which  will  be 
published  in  three  weeks  time,  giving  an  account  of  the 
grounds  and  reasons  of  the  change  you  so  much  wonder  at; 
chiefly  for  the  xise  of  my  former  friends.  As  you  used  not 
to  consider  me  as  a  fool,  do  not  condemn  my  book  as  fool- 
ish, without  reading  it,  and  that  attentively:  and,  where  we 
differ,  do  make  it  a  part  of  your  prayers,  that  whichever  of 
us  is  mistaken  may  be  directed  to  the  truth," 

Writing  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ford  jointly,  September  28th, 
after  allowing  the  truth  of  their  position,  "that  it  is  possible 
for  a  person,  engaged  in  the  concerns  of  the  world,  so 
to  spend  his  time  in  his  business,  as  to  be  doing  his  duty  to 
<jlod  and  man,"  he  makes  the  following  remarks:  "However, 
by  the  way,  observe,  that  very  few  thus  manage  their 
worldly  business.  Of  this  you  may  judge.  He,  who  thus 
does  his  worldly  business,  has  it  sanctified  by  the  word  of 
God  and  prayer.  He  goes  about  it  because  it  is  the  will 
of  God  he  should  do  so.  He  orders  it  all  in  conformity  to 
his  revealed  will,  as  far  as  he  knows  that  will;  comparing 
his  conduct  continually  with  the  word  of  God.  He  depends 
upon  the  Lord  for  a  blessing  in  his  undertakings,  and  seeks 
it  in  prayer.  What  the  Lord  gives,  he  receives  with  thank- 
fulness; as  a  gift  undeserved;  as  a  talent  committed  to  his 
stewardship;  and  aims  to  use  it  to  his  glory:  not  with  the 
miser,  as  a  talent  wrapped  in  a  napkin,  or  buried  in  the 
earth:  not  as  provision  made  for  the  flesh,  to  fulfil  the  lusts 
thereof,  with  the  prodigal:  but  in  temperance,  moderation, 
and  a  liberal,  compassionate  beneficence.  When  the 
Lord  crosses  him,  he  submits,  and  says,  It  is  the  Lord^  let 
him  do  "what  seemeth  him  good:  and,  when  things  look  dark, 
he  does  not  murmur  or  distrust,  but  says  the  Lord  will  pro- 
vide." 

Another  series  of  letters  may  also  here  be  adverted  to, 
extending  from  the  year  1778  to  1785,  and  addressed  to 
the  husband  of  my  mother''s  sister.  They  are  almost  en- 
tirely religious,  but  being  chiefly  occupied  in  urging  first 
principles,  they  will  not  furnish  more  than  a  few  extracts  in 
this  place,  illustrative  of  the  writer's  zeal,  faithfulness,  and 
spiritual  wisdom. 

August  11,  1778.  Religion  was  so  much  the  subject  of 
conversation  with  us  when  you  were  in  Bucks,  that  1  hope 
it  wiil  not  be   a  disagreeable  subject  of  correspondence^ 


1777—1780.]  LETTERS.  107 

I  am  so  deeply  sensible  of  the  importance  of  religion,  that 
is,  of  the  concerns  of  eternity,  the  interests  of  our  immor- 
tal souls,  and  the  way  and  manner  wherein  we  may  be 
accepted  by  a  just,  holy,  almighty,  and  eternal  God,  that  I 
am  naturally  led  to  think  every  one  as  much  impressed 
with  the  sense  of  these  things  as  I  am,  though  I  have 
abundant  evidence  that  there  are  but  very  few,  who  pay 
much  regard  to  them:  and,  of  those  who  do  pay  some  re- 
gard, most  are  so  much  bhnded  and  prejudiced  by  the 
world,  by  Satan,  and  by  sin,  that  their  religion  is  one  of  their 
own  making,  and  they  know  little  of  that  religion  which 
the  word  of  God  proposes  to  us.  You  may  remember  that, 
though  I  told  you  my  views  of  religion  over  and  over,  yet  I 
laid  little  stress  upon  that.  1  told  you  withal  that  I  did  not  want 
you  to  beheve  them  because  I  taught  them,  but  because  the 
Lord  taught  them.  The  Bible  being  the  word  of  God,  his 
message  to  us,  able  to  make  us  wise  unto  salvation,  the  great 
point  1  labored  to  impress  upon  your  mind  was,  the  absolute 
necessity  of  taking  our  religion  from  that  book  alone,  and 
the  obligation  we  are  under  to  search  the  scriptures  daily  to 
know  what  indeed  they  do  contain;  to  receive  what  they 
contain  as  certain  truth,  however  man,  even  learned  men, 
and  preachers,  may  contradict  them,  and  however  contra- 
ry they  may  be  to  our  former  notions  and  conceptions, 
and  how  mysterious  soever  some  things  in  them  may  ap- 
pear.— The  «ext  thing  1  labored  to  impress  was,  the  ne- 
cessity of  prayer  in  general  for  whatever  we  want;  but 
especially,  when  we  read  the  word  of  God,  that  we  may 
be  enabled  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  understand  it." 

January  15,  1779.  Whether  you  know  it  or  not,  (I  hope 
you  will  know  it,)  before  you  can  serve  God  with  comfort 
and  acceptance  you  need  these  t\Vo  things.  First,  forgive- 
ness of  sins.  You  have  been  sinning  against  God  in 
thought,  word,  and  deed,  ajl  your  life;  as  we  all  have. 
Your  sins  of  heart  and  life,  of  omission  and  commission, 
stand  against  you,  and,  till  they  be  accounted  for  and  for- 
given, your  services  cannot  be  accepted.  Every  duty  you 
do  is  short  of  its  perfection,  and  as  such  adds  to  your  sins  and 
needs  forgiveness.  In  this  case  the  Gospel  reveals  for- 
giveness, through  the  blood  of  Christ,  freely  given  to  ev- 
ery sinner  who  believes.  Believe,  and  4hou  shalt  be  saved. 
Accept  this  freely,  as  it  is  offered,  and  seek,  by  prayer, 
for  faith  to  believe  this  record  which  God  gives  of  his 
Son;  and  then,  your  sins  being  forgiven,  you  will  no  Ion- 


108  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI 

ger  look  upon  God  as  an  austere  master,  or  severe  judge, 
but  as  a  loving  father,  and  will  with  acceptance  and  com- 
fort pay  your  services,  though  imperfect.  For,  secondly, 
you  need  moreover  a  willing  mind,  and  strength  to  re- 
sist temptation.  Hitherto,  1  dare  say,  you  have  constrain- 
ed your  inclination  in  what  you  have  done  in  religion: 
but,  if  you  are  brought  to  faith,  living  faith  in  Christ,  he 
will  give  you  other  inclinations,  a  new  heart,  and  a  new 
spirit,  a  new  nature.  Then  his  yoke  will  be  easy;  his 
commandments  not  grievous;  his  ways,  ways  of  pleasantness.^^ 

"Nov.  2,  1780.  May  1  conjecture  the  reason  of  your 
silence?  If  I  am  mistaken,  I  hope  you  will  not  be  offended, 
as  1  am  solicitous  about  you,  and  fearful  lest  by  any  means 
the  tempter  have  tempted  you,  and  my  labor  should  be  in  vain: 

which  to  lose  would  be  a  great  grief  to  me,  to  you  an 

I  cannot  express  what! — Is  not  the  case  thus?  When  you 
had  got  home,  and  engaged  afresh  in  worldly  business,  and 
got  again  among  former  companions,  were  you  not  carried 
away  with  the  stream^  Your  impressions  gradually  wear- 
ing off,  and  conscience  making  fainter  and  fainter  resist- 
ance, hath  not  your  goodness  proved  like  the  morning  dexv, 
that  paseeth  away?. ...Oh  how  glad  should  I  be  to  find  myself 
mistaken  in  this!  for  God  is  my  record  how  earnestly  /  long 
after  you  in  the  bowels  of  Jesus  Christ:  that  I  do  bear  a  truly 
brotherly  affection  towards  you,  long  for  your  welfare,  and 
not  wholly  forget  to  pray  for  you,  and  still  hope  that  my 
prayers  shall  be  answered." 

"January  11,  1781.  I  rejoice  exceedingly  at  what  you 
tell  me  concerning  yourself.  I  would  not  say  too  much  in 
the  way  of  encouragement.. ..I  have  seen  hopeful  awaken- 
ings wear  off:  therefore  be  jealous  of  yourself:  be  not  high 
minded,  but  fear:  press  forward,  forgetting  the  things  that  are 
behind,  and  reaching  forth  to  the  things  that  are  before.  But 
I  will  venture  to  say,  that  your  last  letter  has  made  my 
heart  leap  for  joy,  and  makes  me  confidently  hope  for  a 
happy  issue,  an  effectual  answer  to  the  many  prayers  I 
have,  and  your  sister  has  offered  for  you... .You  speak  of 
the  reproach  of  the  world:  rejoice  in  it.  What,  are  you 
unwilling  to  be  put  upon  a  footing  with  apostles,  and 
prophets,  yea  with  your  master  himself?" 

I  flatter  myself  I  need  offer  no  apology  for  extracts  pre- 
senting so  lively  and  affecting  a  picture  of  the  writer's  mind, 
and  exhibiting  in  him  already  so  strong  a  resemblance  of 
what  he  himself  has  described,  as  St.  Paul's  temper,  in  the 


1780.]         CLOSING  PERIOD  AT  WESTON.  109 

opening  of  his  treatise  on  'Growth  in  Grace.'  "The  apos- 
tle Paul,"  he  says,  "was  evidently  a  man  of  strong  pas- 
sions and  peculiar  sensibility;  and,  being  by  divine  grace  ex- 
ceedingly filled  with  love  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  to  the 
souls  of  men,  his  mind  was  affected  with  the  most  lively 
emotions  of  joy  or  sorrow,  hope  or  fear,  according  to  the 
tidings  he  received  from  the  several  churches  of  Christ. 
At  one  time  he  complains  that  he  has  no  rest  in  his  fleshy  is 
jillecl  with  heaviness^  and  can  no  longer  forbear;  and  that  he 
writes  out  of  much  affliction^  with  anguish  of  hearty  and  with 
many  tears.  At  another  he  declares  that  he  is  filled  with 
comfort^  and  is  exceedingly  joxjful  in  all  his  tribulation.,  being 
comforted  by  the  faith  of  his  beloved  children:  for  now^  says 
he,  we  live^t  if  we  standfast  in  the  Lord.''"' — He  understands  the 
apostle,  indeed,  to  "intimate,  that  these  were  things  which 
concerned  his  infirmities:  and  doubtless,'*  he  says,  "this  san- 
guine disposition  requires  much  correction  and  regulation 
by  divine  grace:  but,  when  it  is  thus  tempered  and  counter- 
balanced by  proportionable  humiUty,  wisdom,  patience,  and 
disinterestedness,  it  may  be  considered  as  the  mainspring 
of  a  minister's  activity.  And,  as  these  united  qualifications 
certainly  conduced  very  much  to  the  apostle's  extraordinary 
usefulness,  so  they  render  his  epistles  peculiarly  interesting 
to  us,  in  all  our  inquiries  concerning  the  best  methods  of 
promoting  the  enlargement  and  prosperitj^of  the  church, 
and  the  edification  of  all  the  true  disciples  of  the  Lord 
Jesus." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FROM   THE   FIRST   PROPOSAL  OF  THE   CURACV    OF   OLNEY   TO   THE 
CLOSE   OF   HIS   MINISTRY   THERE. 

"In  1780*  Mr.  Newton  removed  to  London.  When  he  haci 
determined  on  this  step,  he  proposed  to  me,  with  consider- 
able earnestness,  that  I  should  succeed  him  in  the  curacy 
of  Olney,  which  he  had  sufficient  influence  to  procure  for 
me.  I  feltgreat  reluctance  to  comply  with  the  proposal, 
both  because  it  would  remove  me  from  Ravenstone, — hith- 

•  Mr.  Newton's  first  sermon  at  St,  Mary  Woolnoth's  was  preachedl 
Oeoember  19,  1779. 
10 


110  CLOSING  PERIOD  AT  [Chap.  VIl. 

erto  the  principal  sphere  of  my  usefulness, — and  also  be- 
cause, from  my  acquaintance  with  the  leading  people  at 
Olney,  (where  I  had  frequently  preached,)  and  from  other 
circumstances,  I  was  sure  that  my  plain  distinguishing  style 
of  preaching,  especially  as  connected  with  my  comparative 
youth,  would  not  be  acceptable  there.  I  was  convinced 
that  even  from  Mr.  Newton  many  could  not  endure  what  I 
should  deem  it  my  duty  to  inculcate:  how  then  could  it  be 
expected  that  they  should  endure  it  from  me? — Mr.  N.'sper-^ 
suasions,  however,  with  those  of  a  few  of  his  friends,  ex- 
torted my  unwilling  consent.  But,  as  soon  as  it  was  known, 
that  he  meant  me  to  be  his  successor,  so  general  and  vio- 
lent an  opposition  was  excited,  that  he  said  to  me  by  letter, 
*I  believe  Satan  has  so  strong  an  objection  to  your  coming 
to  Olney,  that  it  would  probably  be  advisable  to  defer  it  for 
the  present.'  This  rejoiced  me  and  many  others:  but  our 
joy  was  not  of  long  duration. — Let  this  statement  be  kept 
in  mind,  when  the  censures  on  my  ministry  at  Olney  come 
under  consideration. 

^'The  person,  on  whom  the  prevailing  party  at  Olney 
had  fixed  as  successor  to  Mr.  N.,  was,  in  his  opinion,  as  well 
as  in  that  of  all  other  competent  judges,  the  most  improper 
that  could  have  been  selected,  being  completely  antinomian 
in  principle  and  practice.  1  never  saw  Mr.  N.  so  much  dis- 
concerted as  on  this  occasion.  But  opposition  was  like  pour- 
ing oil  into  the  fire.  He  therefore  gave  way,  but  with  a  kind 
of  foreboding  prediction  of  the  consequences,  at  least  of 
some  of  them." 

The  following  events,  which  occurred  between  the  time 
of  the  proposed  removal  to  Olney  being  abandoned,  and  that 
of  its  being  subsequently  carried  into  effect,  may  seem  to 
exhibit  my  father  more  as  a  physician  than  as  a  divine:  they 
all  tend,  however,  to  {■  splay  his  character. 

"Just  before  Mr.  N.  left  Olney,  th€  small  pox  made  its 
appearance  there,  and,  in  a  considerable  measure  through 
the  intractable  behavior  of  the  inhabitants,  both  in  opposing 
inoculation,  (which  Mr.  N.  also  disapproved,)  and  in  treat- 
ing the  diseased  persons  in  a  manner  which  almost  wholly 
defeated  the  efforts  of  their  medical  attendants,  a  most  ex- 
traordinary mortality  prevailed;  the  funerals  during  the  year 
subsequent  to  Mr.  N.'s  removal  amounting  to  more  thaa 
twice  the  number  registered  in  any  ibrmeryear.  Through 
shameful  negligence  and  mismanagement,  the  disease  was 
•alsocomuiunicated  to  the  inhabitants  of  Rayensjtojie:  and  a 


178a.]  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  Ill 

poor  woman,  discharging  her  duties  as  a  midwife,  was  sub- 
jected to  infection,  in  a  manner  which  I  can  scarcely  now 
reflect  upon  without  indignation.  After  a  short  season  of 
exquisite  suffering,  she  died  without  any  eruption  appearing; 
and,.being  assured  by  the  apothecary  who  attended  her,  that 
the  small  pox  was  not  her  complaint,  I  preached  a  funeral 
sermon  for  her  to  a  large  congregation  from  all  the  adja- 
cent villages;  the  corpse  being  in  the  church  during  the 
service.  But,  soon  after,  every  person  who  had  attended 
her  in  her  illness,  and  had  not  previously  had  the  small  pox, 
was  taken  ill  with  symptoms  indicating^  that  disease.  No 
words  can  express  my  anguish  and  consternation  at  this 
event.  I  took  it  for  granted  that  numbers  of  the  congrega- 
tion at  the  funeral  would  soon  shew  signs  of  infection,  and 
that  my  ill-judged  zeal,  in  preaching  on  the  occasion,  would 
prove  the  means  of  spreading  the  dire  disease  widely  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  thus  furnish  an  opportunity  for  abundant 
reviUng  to  the  enemies  of  religion.  My  alarm,  however, 
was  groundless:  not  one  additional  person  by  this  means 
took  the  infection;  the  malady  was  not  communicated  to 
any  other  village;  it  spread  but  Uttle  in  Ravenstone;  and 
not  one  person  died,  except  the  poor  woman  who  had 
brought  the  disease  into  the  village." 

My  father  here  enters,  with  more  medical  detail  thaa 
might  be  generally  interesting,  into  the  history  of  the  preva- 
lence of  the  small  pox  at  Ravenstone,  and  of  the  goal  fever 
at  Stoke.  His  observation  just  made  that  the  former  dis- 
ease "spread  buthttle  at  Ravenstone,"  seems  to  refer  only 
to  cases  of  infection.  Instances  of  inoculation  appear  to 
have  been  numerous:  and,  as  he  had  little  confidence  in  the 
neighboring  apothecaries,  and  none  in  the  nurses;  who  ad- 
hered to  the  exploded  method  of  treatment,  he,  of  his  own 
instance,  called  in  Dr.  Kerr,  and,  "under  him,"  he  says,  "I 
was  physician,  apothecary,  and  almost  nurse.  I  inoculated 
none,  but  some  inoculated  their  neighbors,  and  I  subse- 
quently directed  their  proceedings.  Nearly  all  my  time 
was  for  some  weeks  employed.  Meanwhile  violent  clamor 
was  raised  against  me,  and  threatenings  of  an  alarming  na- 
ture were  uttered,  because  1  would  keep  the  #vindows  open 
in  the  rooms  where  the  diseased  persons  lay,  and  would  al- 
low those  patients,  who  were  able,  to  walk  out  in  their  gar- 
dens, or  at  the  back  of  the  village." 

On  the  subject  of  inoculation  itself  he  had  also  great  dif- 
dculties  to  contend  with.    Two  of  his  own  family,  (his  only 


112  CLOSING  PERIOD  AT  [Chaf.  VI!. 

surviving  child  and  an  orphan  nephew,)  had  not  had  the 
small  pox.  He  himself  was  "always  an  advocate"  for  inoc- 
ulation, but  "the  prejudices  of  numbers  of  religious  persons 
in  the  neighborhood,  were  exceedingly  strong  against  it." 
If  he  should  adopt  it,  he  knew  that  his  conduct  "would  be 
severely  arraigned  by  many,  and  on  others  would  have  a 
powerful  influence.  On  these  grounds  alone  he  hesitated." 
Yet,  while  thus  circumstanced,  he  constantly  attended  the 
sick,  as  above  described.  "I  kept  (he  says)  an  old  suit  of 
clothes  in  a  hovel  at  Ravenstone,  and  before  I  went  among 
the  sick  I  changed  all  my  clothes  in  the  hovel,  and  I  did 
the  same  again  before  I  returned  home.  Yet  I  still  thought 
that  I  hardly  did  my  duty  to  my  family."  At  length,  there- 
fore, he  had  the  children  inoculated,  and  procured  them 
lodgings  at  Ravenstjone.  "They  passed  through  the  disor- 
der very  well,  but  during  theirtresidence  at  that  place  (he 
proceeds,)  I  met  with  some  instances  of  such  base  ingrati- 
tude, in  respect  of  this  affair,  from  those  whom  I  had  most 
labored  to  serve,  that,  in  a  very  ill  humor,  I  returned  home 
one  evening,  deliberately  resolved  to  go  no  more  among 
the  people,  but  to  leave  them  to  the  consequences  of  their 
perverseness.  While  cherishing  this  determination,  the 
words  of  the  apostle,  Be  not  overcome  of  evil^  but  overcome 
evil  with  good^  occurred  to  my  recollection  in  a  manner 
which  I  shall  never  forget.  I  am  no  friend  to  suggestio7i& 
or  impressions^  in  the  general  sense  of  the  terms;  but  I  can- 
not i^oubt,  that  this  most  excellent  scriptural  admonition,  so 
exactly  suited  to  the  state  of  my  mind,  was  brought  to  my 
remembrance  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  (See  John  xiv,  26.)  It  at 
once  set  me  right;  and  converted  my  murmurings  into 
humble  confessions,  thankful  praises,  and  fervent  prayers. 
I  persevered  in  my  'work  and  labor  of  love^  and  the  event 
proved  highly  gratifying  and  creditable.  I  never  in  my  life 
spent  so  much  time,  with  such  earnestness,  in  secret  and 
social  prayer,  as  during  this  trying  season;  and  every  pra^^- 
er  seemed  to  be  answered  and  exceeded.  I  had  my  vex- 
ations: but  I  would  gladly  go  through  them  all  again,  if  I 
might  enjoy  the  same  proportion  of  consolation,  and  get  as 
much  good  ^,  my  own  soul,  and  be  an  instrument  of  as  much 
good  to  others,  as  at  that  time. 

"When  all  had  terminated  prosperously  respecting  the 
malady,  and  calumny  on  that  ground  was  silenced,  a  clamor 
of  a  widely  different  nature  was.  raised.  'A  poor  curate, 
with  a  family,  had  spent  in  medicines  and  wine,  and  ^iveu 


1780.]  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  UB>^ 

in  money,  what  was  enoug-h  to  ruin  him!'  Some  of  the  per- 
sons concerned  as  parish  officers,  or  having  influence  in  par- 
ish affairs,  might  easily,  and  ought  certainly,  to  have  set  this 
right.  I  have  no  doubt  that  a  very  large  sum  was  saved  to 
the  parish,  yet  the  officers  paid  nothing  which  they  could 
refuse,  not  even  the  well  deserved  fee  to  Dr.  Kerr.  Medi* 
cines,  wine,  and  money,  when  urgently  wanted,  were  sup»- 
plied  by  me  exclusively:  on  subsequent  occasions  I  was 
generally,  and  sometimes  liberally,  aided  by  friends:  but  at 
this  time  all  stood  aloof.  The  expense,  however,  was  far 
less  than  was  commonly  supposed,  except  that  of  my  time; 
which,  if  calculated  at  its  pecuniary  value,  might  be  con- 
siderable, but  can  never  be  better  employed  than  in  gratui- 
tously endeavoring  to  do  good:  and,  as  soon  as  the  objec- 
tion just  mentioned  was  raised,  I  received  15/.  bs.  from 
persons  at  a  distance,  unknown  to  me  at  the  time,  and 
from  whom  I  never  before  or  afterwards  received  any  thing: 
This  more  than  repaid  all  my  disbursements,  and  convinc- 
ed me,  that  there  is  no  risk  in  expending  money^  in  an  ur- 
gent case,  and  from  good  motives;  and  that  a  penurious  pru' 
dence,  springing  from  weakfaith,  is  impolicy  as  well  as  sin. 

"Soon  after  these  events,  a  circumstance  took  place  at 
Stoke,  with  which  I  was  in  some  measure  concerned,  (though 
not  then  connected  with  the  parish,)  and  which  appears  to 
me  to  suggest  important  cautions.  A  poor  man,  with  a 
large  family,  was  allowed  by  his  baker  to  run  into  his  debt 
to  the  amount  of  10/.;  for  which  he  then  arrested  him,  fool- 
ishly supposing  the  overseers  would  pay  the  money,  rather 
than  suffer  the  man  to  be  thrown  into  prison.  They,  of 
course,  disappointed  his  expectation:  the  debtor  was  sent 
^  to  Aylesbury  gaol;  where  the  gaol-fever  then  prevailed. 
He  took  that  dire  disease.  His  wife  went  to  see  and  nurse 
him:  he  di«d:  she  returned  home,  sickened,  and  died:  the 
malady  spread  in  the  village,  sparing  the  childrerfj  but  prov- 
ing fatal  to  the  parents.  The  neighboring  apothecaries  in 
vain  attempted  to  stop  its  progress.  I  also  ventured  into 
the  recesses  of  misery  and  infection,  and  in  a  few  instances 
tried  my  medical  skill,  as  well  as  gave  spiritual  counsel. 
But  I  soon  found  that  the  case  baffled  all  my  eff'orts.  I  be- 
lieve forty  children  had  been  bereft  of  one  parent,  and 
nearly  twenty  of  both.  I  knew  the  overseer:  I  went  to  him, 
and  remonstrated  with  him,  on  the  grounds  not  only  of  mer- 
cy and  humanity,  but  of  policy;  and  succeeded  in  convincing 
him,  that  no  medical  expence  which  could  be  incurred  was 
*10 


114  RESIDENCE  [Chap.  Vlf. 

likely  to  burden  the  parish  a  tenth  part  so  much,  as  this  fa- 
tal progress  of  the  disease  was  doing.  I  prevailed  with 
him  therefore  to  send  immediately  for  Dr.  Kerr,  who  came 
and  spent  nearly  a  whole  day  in  the  service;  and  he  laid 
down  such  rules  for  the  management  of  the  patients,  that 
not  one  afterwards  died,  and  the  disease  was  speedily  extir- 
pated. 

"The  same  fever  had  broken  out  in  the  gaol  at  North- 
ampton, as  well  as  at  Aylesbury:  but  Dr.  Kerr  having,  as  a 
surgeon  in  the  army,  had  much  experience  in  diseases  of 
this  nature,  in  camps,  garrisons,  and  military  hospitals,  so 
effectually  counteracted  it,  that  it  was  soon  expelled,  and 
few  deaths  occurred." 

It  may  be  remarked,  that  Dr.  Kerr  formed  so  favorable 
an  opinion  of  my  father's  medical  talent,  that  he  frequent- 
ly urged  him  to  change  his  profession,  and  would  never 
himself"  give  his  directions  to  any  other  person  when  he  was 
present- 
He  proceeds:  "For  myself,  1  was  much  exposed  to  in- 
fection in  this  case,  but  1  was  preserved:  and  I  never  on 
any  occasion  received  harm  from  visiting  persons  afflicted 
with  infectious  disorders,  except  in  one  instance,  in  which 
I  had  a  very  severe  fever:  but  1  was  mercifully  carried 
through  it. 

*'In  this  instance,  which  happened,  I  believe,  before  those 
above  related,  an  incident  occurred,  on  which  I  never  can 
reflect  without  astonishment:  but  I  venture  my  credit  for 
veracity  on  the  exact  truth  of  it.  A  poor  man,  most  dan- 
gerously ill,  of  whose  religious  state  I  entertained  some 
hopes,  seemed  to  me  in  the  agonies  of  death.  I  sat  by  his 
bed  for  a  considerable  time,  expecting  to  see  him  expire: 
but  at  length  he  awoke  as  from  sleep,  and  noticed  me.  I 
said,  'You  are  extremely  ill.'  He  replied,  S^es;  but  I 
shall  not  dft  this  time.'  I  asked  the  ground  of  this  extra- 
ordinary confidence,  saying  that  I  was  persuaded  he  would 
not  recovef.  To  this  he  answered:  4  have  just  dreamed 
that  you,  with  a  very  venerable-looking  person,  came  to 
me.  He  asked  you,  what  you  thought  of  me.  'What  kind 
of  tree  is  it?  Is  there  any  fruit?'  You  said,  'No:  but  there 
are  blossoms.'  'Well  then,'  he  said,  'I  will  spare  it  a  little 
longer.'  All  reUance  upon  such  a  dream,  I  should,  in  oth- 
er circumstances,  have  scouted  as  enthusiasm  and  presump- 
tion: but  it  so  exactly  met  my  ideas  as  to  the  man's  state  of 
mind, — which,  however,  I  had  never  communicated  to  him; 


1781--1785.]  AT  OLNEY.  115 

and  the  event,  much  beyond  all  expectation,  so  answered 
his  confidence,  by  his  recovery;  that  1  could  not  but  think 
there  was  something  pecuUar  in  it. 

"On  his  recovery,  this  man  for  a  time  went  on  very 
well:  but  afterwards  he  gave  up  all  attention  to  religion, 
and  became  very  wicked:  and,  when  I  reminded  him  of 
what  has  been  now  related,  he  treated  the  whole  with  in- 
difference; not  to  say,  with  profane  contempt.  But  1  have 
since  learned,  from  very  good  authority,  that,  after  1  left 
that  part  of  the  country,  he  was  again  brought  under  deep 
conviction  of  sin;  recollected  and  dolefully  bemoaned  his 
conduct  towards  me,  and  with  respect  to  his  dream;  and  be- 
came a  decidedly  religious  character:  and,  if  this  be  true, 
his  case  certainly  furnishes  a  most  striking  instance,  as  of 
the  force  of  human  depravity,  so  also  of  the  long  suffering 
and  tender  mercy  of  our  God.  I  believe  he  is  still  living  at 
Stoke  Goldington. 

"After  Mr.  Newton  had  left  Olney  about  a  year,  his  pre- 
dictions concerning  his  successor  were  amply  verified:  for, 
having  embroiled  himself  with  the  parishioners,  and  acted  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  incur  public  rebuke  from  the  Arch- 
deacon at  the  visitation,  the  curate,  at  length,  in  a  pettish 
letter  to  the  Earl  of  Dartmouth,  patron  of  the  living, 
threatened  to  relinquish  his  charge.  He  probably  did  not 
mean  to  be  taken  at  his  word;  but  his  Lordship,  communi- 
cating with  the  vicar,  his  implied  resignation  of  the  cura- 
cy was  admitted,  and  a  deputation,  including  some  of  the 
persons  who  before  opposed  my  succeeding  Mr.  Newton, 
was  sent  to  me,  earnestly  requesting  me  to  accept  the  va- 
cant situation.  I  felt  great  reluctance  to  comply,  hesi- 
tated for  some  time,  and  went  to  London  to  consult  those 
ministers  with  whom  I  had  any  acquaintance.  They  all 
considered  it  as  my  duty  to  accede  to  the  proposal;  which 
I  accordingly  did.  But,  as  soon  as  the  late  curate  of  Olney 
knew  that  I  was  appointed,  and  had  in  consequence  resigned 
Ptavenstone,  he  applied  to  the  vicar,  and  was  accepted  as 
my  successor  there!  Had  I  foreseen  this,  I  should  not  have 
consented  to  remove  to  Olney:  for  I  knew  that  he  had  still 
many  admirers  in  that  place,  and  I  was  at  first  full  of  sad 
apprehensions  as  to  the  effect  of  his  smooth  and  soothing  doc- 
trines, on  my  Ravenstone  people.  But  I  could  now  do  no 
more  than  pray,  Lord^  turn  the  counsel  of  Ahithophel  into 
foolishness! — fori  considered  a  more  sagacious  opposer  than 
the  visible  one,  as  the  author  of  this  measure. — A  tempo- 


116  RESIDENCE  [Chap.  Vlf. 

rary  confusion  and  vexation,  almost  beyond  description,  en- 
sued: but  it  was  not  long  before  all  terminated  creditably 
and  comfortably. 

"The  curacy  of  Olney  was  only  30/.  a  year  and  a  house, 
with  rather  better  surplice  fees  than  at  Ravenstone.  For 
that  curacy  I  had  received  40/.  a  year,  and  some  assistance 
which  I  could  not  expect  to  retain;  and,  as  before  observed, 
Hived  rent-free  at  Weston:  so  that  the  change  which  1  now 
made  was  not,  in  the  first  instance,  to  my  secular  advantage. 
The  people  of  Olney,  however,  had  been  accustomed  to 
raise  a  subscription  for  Mr.  Newton,  without  any  solicitation,* 
and  the  managing  persons  promised  to  do  the  same  for  me. 
But  discontent  soon  arose:  the  leading  characters  did  not 
act:  others  did  not  come  forward:  and  I  was  decidedly 
averse  to  soliciting  any  party:  so  that  for  a  year  and  a  half 
I  received  less  than  my  former  income.  I  was  often  great- 
ly straitened,  and  sometimes  discouraged:  but  I  persevered 
in  every  service  at  the  church  to  which  the  people  had 
been  accustomed,  and  which  was  practicable,  though  it  was 
much  more  than  could  be  demanded.  In  particular,  I  con- 
tinued the  weekly  lecture,  though  very  poorly  attended. 

And  here  I  would  mention,  that,  after  1  decidedly  em- 
braced my  present  views  of  the  gospel,  and  of  the  Chris- 
tian ministr}^,  I  constantly  preached  two  weekly  lectures, 
one  in  each  of  my  parishes,  without  any  remuneration. 
My  congregations  were  small  but  very  select:  at  Raven- 
stone,  on  an  average,  not  more  than  forty;  afterwards  at 
Olnej'^,  (though  that  town  contained  about  two  thousand 
five  hundred  inhabitants,)  seldom  above  fifty  or  sixty;  and 
at  Weston,  often  under  thirty.  Yet  1  have  reason  to  think 
that  these  services  were  peculiarly  blessed  to  others,  and 
they  were  specially  comfortable  to  my  own  soul.  Most  of 
my  few  hearers  I  considered  as  my  children;  and  I  gave 
them,  with  much  feeling  and  aifection,  many  very  particular 
instructions,  cautions,  and  admonitions,  which  1  could  hard- 
ly have  introduced  into  addresses  to  more  general  congre- 
gations, and  for  which  the  one,  or  perhaps  two  sermons  on 
the  Lord's  day  did  not  allow  sufficient  time.  Were  I  now 
situate  in  a  village  or  neighborhood,  in  which  twenty  or 
thirty  people  would  probably  attend,  I  certainly  should 
preach  a  constant  week-day  lecture,  even  to  so  small  a 
company.'^     In  this  respect,  I  think,  many  pious  ministers, 

^  In  fact,  my  father  did  so  at  Aston  during  a  great  part  of  the  ye#. 


.1781—1785.]  AT  OLNEY,  117 

esteeming  it  hardly  worth  while  to  preach  to  a  few,  forget 
the  i^Mcii^uic^  xy.uipug^  of  the  apostle,*  and  lose  a  most  im- 
portant opportunity  of.edifying  their  little  flock  in  their  most 
holy  faith.  They  preach  the  gospel  on  the  Sunday,  at 
large;  but  they  do  not  attend  to  our  Savior's  words,  teach- 
ing them  (their  converts)  to  observe  all  things  whatsoever  I 
have  commanded  you. 

''Notwithstanding  difficulties,  T,  in  one  way  or  other,  sup- 
ported my  credit  at  Olney.  But  I  was  here  surrounded 
with  numerous  and  most  distressed  poor  persons,  for  whom 
Mr.  Newton's  more  abundant  resources,  derived  from  afflu- 
ent friends,  had  enabled  him  to  do  considerable  thing^rj 
and  this  added  to  my  embarrassment.  They  were  sensible, 
however,  of  my  different  situation,  and  I  must  say  expressed 
satisfaction  and  thankfulness  for  the  far  more  scanty  aid 
which  I  could  afford  them. 

"After  I  had  been  at  Olney  about  a  year  and  a  half,  Lady 
Austen,  having  come  to  visit  her  sister,  who  was  married  to 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Jones,  curate  of  the  adjacent  village  of  Clifton, 
proposed  to  take  my  first  floor,  and  some  other  accommoda- 
tion which  1  could  conveniently  spare:  and  she  accordingly 
became  an  inmate  at  the  vicarage.  This  added  10/.  a  year 
to  my  income,  and  saved  me  some  expences." 

It  appears  from  Cowper's  letters  as  published  by  Mr. 
Hayley,  that  Lady  Austen  entered  upon  her  lodgings  at  the 
vicarag-e  in  the  autumn  of  1782,  soon  after  the  birth  of  my 
father's  fifth  child.  This  child  a  son,  lived  only  six  months. 
It  was  born  with  a  mark  upon  the  face,  extending  over  one 
eye,  which  turned  to  a  sore,  and  "after  several  distressing 
weeks"  ended  in  mortification.  Its  death  I  find  thus  an- 
nounced by  Mr.  Cowper,  writing  to  Mr.  Newton,  February 
8,  1783.  "Mr.  S— 's  last  child  is  dead.  It  lived  a  little 
while  in  a  world  of  which  it  knew  nothing,  and  is  gone  to 
another  in  which  it  is  already  become  wiser  than  the  wisest 
it  has  left  behind. — The  earth  is  a  grain  of  sand,  but  the 
interests  of  man  are  commensurate  with  the  heavens."  J — 
My  father  says  of  it,  writing  to  a  friend,  "He  was  a  great 

*   "In  season,  out  of  season."  2  Tim.  iv,  2. 

•j-  **Be  hospitable,  said  Mr.  Thornton,  and  keep  an  open  house  for. 
such  as  are  worthy  of  entertainment:  help  the  poor  and  needy:  I  will 
statedly  allow  you  200/.  a  year,  and  readily  send  whatever  you  have  oc- 
easion  to  draw  for  more. — Mr.  N.  told  me,  that  he  thought  he  had  re- 
ceived of  Mr.  Thornton  upwards  of  3000/.  in  this  way,  during  the  timp 
Ue  resided  at  Olney." — Life  of  Newton.  W  Cecil. 

\  Vol.  III.  Let.  69^ 


118  RESIDENCE  [Chap.  VII. 

sufferer,  and  we  had  in  him  a  great  and  needful  trial;  but 
the  issue  was  mercj.  We  have,  1  trust,  three  in  heaven, 
and  have  cause  for  thankfulness." 

I  find  from  the  letter  just  quoted,  that,  soon  after  this 
event,  my  father  visited  his  rehitions  in  Lincolnshire,  and 
derived  much  satisfaction  from  his  journey.  "I  found  my 
friends  more  cordial,  and  more  disposed  to  give  me  a 
patient  hearing  than  I  expected,  and  some  of  them  treading 
the  ways  of  the  Lord;  others  somewhat  hopeful.  I  had  a 
door  of  utterance  opened  unto  me  beyond  expectation,  and 
returned  home  full  of  sanguine  hopes  that  some  good  would 
be  done  by  my  journey.  This,  it  seems,  was  more  than 
my  poor  fooUsh  heart  could  bear:  there  needed  some  bitter 
to  counteract  all  this  sweet.  Therefore,  my  wise  and  kind 
physician,  (having  in  mercy  brought  me  home  first,)  im- 
mediately discerning  the  danger,  appHed  the  remedy:  and  I 
am  very  base  if  I  do  not  heartily  thank  him  for  it." — This 
remedy  was  a  severe  attack  of  his  asthmatic  complaint, 
*'with  several  relapses." 

He  proceeds  in  his  narrative;  "After  Lady  Austen  had 
been  with  me  for  a  short  time,  she  learned  the  circumstan- 
ces respecting  the  sul)scription  promised,  but  not  raised  for 
me:  and  she  found  that  several  of  the  inhabitants  were  dis- 
posed cheerfully  to  contribute,  if  any  one  would  collect 
their  contributions.  In  consequence,  she  herself,  together 
with  her  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Jones,  without  my  solicita- 
tion or  knowledge,  undertook  to  set  the  business  forward. 
And  from  this  time  a  regular  subscription  was  raised,  small  in- 
deed in  itself,  and  compared  with  what  it  had  formerly  been, 
but  sufficient  to  be  a  great  relief  to  me  and  to  lay  me  under 
obligations,  which,  I  fear,  I  never  was  able  to  compensate 
in  a  manner  most  agreeable  to  my  desires  and  prayers. 

"In  the  vicarage-house  at  Olney,  during  Lady  Austen's 
residence  there,  most  of  those  events  which  are  recorded  in 
the  life  of  Cowper,  as  pertaining  to  this  period,  occurred. 
Here  4he  Task'  was  imposed  and  undertaken.  Here  'John 
Gilpin'  was  told  as  a  story,  in  prose,  and  the  plan  formed  of 
giving  it  circulation  in  verse.  Some  things  in  the  published 
account  are  not  very  accurately  stated,  as  I  know,  who  saw 
the  springs  which  moved  the  machine,  and  which  could  not 
be  seen  by  a  more  distant  spectator,  or  mere  visitant. — After 
some  time  the  cordiality  between  Mrs.  Unwin  and  Mr.  Cow- 
per, on  the  one  part,  and  Lady  Austen,  on  the  other,  was  in 
terrupted;  and  my  lodger  suddenly  left  me,  to  my  no  small 
regret," 


1781—1785.]  AT  OLNEY.  119 

During  her  continuance  at  Olney,  Mr.  Hajley  observes, 
the  three  friends  "might  be  almost  said  to  make  one  family, 
as  it  became  their  custom  to  dine  always  together,  alter- 
nately in  the  houses  of  the  two  ladies;"  and  it  was  in  order  to 
facilitate  this  constant  intercourse,  that  a' door  was  opened 
in  the  vicarage  garden  wall  towards  the  back  of  Mr.  Cow- 
per's  premises. 

"After  Lady  Austen  left  Olney,"  my  father  says,  "I  was 
induced  to  receive  into  my  family  a  young  lady  from  Lon- 
don, of  the  name  of  Gines,  afterwards  married  to  John  Bar- 
ber, Esq.  This  proved,  I  trust,  an  important  event,  in  the 
best  sense,  to  her,  and  through  her  to  her  family;  as  well 
as  eventually  to  myself  She  continued  with  me  about  two 
years,  till  my  removal  to  London,  and  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  time  she  was  joined  by  her  younger  sister,  sub- 
sequently the  wife  of  the  late  Rev.  Stephen  Langston,  Rec- 
tor of  Little  Horwood,  Bucks. 

"When  I  published  the  'Force  of  Truth,'  I  had  never  at- 
tended to  any  controversies  concerning  church  government, 
or  any  kindred  subjects.  1  found  myself  a  minister  of  the 
establishment,  and  as  I  saw  no  sufficient  reason  to  relin- 
quish my  station,  1  was  satisfied  that  it  was  my  duty  to  re- 
tain it.  But,  soon  after,  the  controversy  concerning  bap- 
tism," whether  it  should  be  administered  to  infants,  or  only 
to  adults  professing  faith,  "fell  in  my  way;  and,  for  some 
time,  I  was  almost  ready  to  conclude,  that  the  anti-paedo- 
baptists  were  right.  This  gave  me  great  uneasiness:  not 
because  I  was  solicitous  whether,  in  the  search  after  truth, 
I  were  led  among  them  or  elsewhere;  but  because  I  feared 
being  misled;  and  deprecated  following  my  publication 
with  a  further  and  needless  change,  which  might  bring  dis- 
credit upon  it. — Many,  very  many  prayers,  accompanied 
with  tears,  did  1  pour  out  on  this  subject.  I  read  books  on 
both  sides  of  the  question,  but  received  no  satisfaction.  I 
became  even  afraid  of  administering  baptism,  or  the  Lord'is 
Supper.  But  I  said  to  myself,  '//e  that  believeth  shall  not 
make  haste:  I  must  retain  my  station,  till  I  have  taken  time 
to  examine  the  subject  fully:  and  I  must  in  the  mean  time 
do  what  retaining  that  station  requires  ' — It  is  remarkable 
that,  m  this  instance  alone,  my  wife  appeared  greatly  dis- 
tressed, in  the  prospect  of  my  changing  my  sentiments. — At 
length  I  laid  aside  all  controversial  writings,  and  determined 
to  seek  satisfacti-^n  on  this  question,  as  I  had  on  others,  bj 
searching  the  scriptures  and  prayer.     I  was  no  less  time 


120  RESIDENCE  [Chap.  VII. 

than  three  quarters  of  a  year  engaged  in  this  investigation, 
before  1  came  to  a  conclusion:  but  I  was  then  so  fullj  satis- 
lied  that  the  infant  children  of  believers,  and  of  all  who 
make  a  credible  profession  of  faith,  are  the  proper  subjects 
of  baptism,  that  1  have  never  since  been  much  troubled 
about  it. 

"This  was  my  conclusion,  especially  from  the  identity  of 
the  covenant  made  with  Abraham,  and  that  still  made  with 
believers;  and  from  circumcision  being  the  sacrament  of 
regeneration  under  the  old  dispensation,  as  baptism  is  under 
the  new,  and  the  seal  of  the  righteousness  of  faith. — Abra- 
ham received  this  seal  long  after  he  believed;  Isaac,  when 
an  infant;  Ishmael,  when  thirteen  years  of  age.  The  men 
t)f  Abraham's  household,  and  Esau,  though  uninterested  in 
the  promises  concerning  Canaan,  yet,  as  a  part  of  Abraham's 
family,  and  of  the  visible  church,  were  circumcised  by  the 
command  of  God  himself.  The  circumcision  of  infants  was 
enjoined,  with  denunciations  of  wrath  against  those  who 
neglected  it.  The  Apostles  were  Israelites  accustomed  to 
this  system.  Adult  Gentiles  were  admitted  among  the 
Jews  by  circumcision,  and  their  male  children  were  circum- 
cised also.  In  Christ,  there  is  neither  male  norfemals. — Had 
only  adults  been  designed  to  be  the  subjects  of  Christian 
baptism,  some  prohibition  of  admitting  infants  would  have 
been  requisite;  and  we  should  never  have  read,  as  we  do, 
of  households  being  baptized,  without  any  limitation  or  ex- 
ception of  this  kind  being  intimated, — In  short,  unless  it  can 
be  proved  that  circumcision  was  not  the  sign,  or  sacrament, 
of  regeneration,  even  as  baptism  now  is,  I  cannot  see  how 
the  argument  can  be  answered:  and  all  the  common  objec- 
tions against  infant  baptism,  as  administered  to  subjects  inca- 
pable of  the  professions  required,  and  the  benefits  intended, 
bear  with  equal  force  against  infant-circumtision. 

"The  conclusion,  thus  drawn,  rests  not  on  this  one  ground 
alone:  collateral.proof  was  not,  and  is  not,  overlooked:  but 
my  idea  always  was,  that  not  the  privilege  of  the  infant, 
but  the  duty  of  the  parent,  is  the  grand  thing  to  be  ascer- 
tained: and  this  clears  away  much  extraneous  matter  from 
the  argument. 

"To  the  question  of  immersion,  or  sprinkling,  or  pouring, 
I  never  attached  any  great  importance.  Immersion  is 
doubtless  baptism:  and  so  is  sprinkling,  or  pouring,  according 
ta  my  unvaried  judgment.     If  a  few  texts  seem  to  allude  to 


1781—1785.]  AT  OLNEY.  121 

baptism  by  figures  taken  from  immersion,  how  many  speak 
of  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Spirit^  under  the  idea  of  pouring 
out  upon  us? 

''The  investigation  of  this  controversy  brought  a  variety 
of  other  subjects  under  my  consideration,  of  which  I  had  not 
before  at  all  thought.  I  met  with  many  objections  to  the 
estabUshed  church,  which  I  was  not  competent  to  answer, 
except  by  reciprocal  objections  to  many  things  in  use  among 
our  opponents,  which  I  thought  at  least  equally  unscrip- 
tural.  In  this  unsettled  state  of  mind  I  was  induced,  by  the 
following  means,  to  preach  irregularly. 

"On  becoming  curate  of  Olney,  I  was  asked  to  preach 
some  annual  sermons  which  Mr.  Newton  had  been  used  to 
preach:  and  this  brought  me  acquainted  with  several  fami- 
lies, chiefly  in  Northampton  and  the  neighborhood,  in  which 
he  had  expounded  to  private  companies.  When  I  had 
ventured  on  this  rather  irregular  service,  (in  which  I  had 
not  before  been  engaged,)  I  was  drawn  on  further  and  fur- 
ther, till  I  was  led  to  preach  frequently  (always  on  the  week- 
days,) in  houses  and  other  private  buildings;  commonly  to 
numerous  congregations.  This  service  was  in  no  degree 
advantageous  to  me,  in  a  secular  point  of  view,  but  the 
contrary;  and  the  state  of  my  health,  oppressed  with  most 
distressing  asthma,  far  beyond  what  I  have  now  for  many 
years  experienced,  rendered  it  extremely  self-denying.  I 
often  rode  seventy  or  eighty  miles,  and  preached  four  or 
five  sermons,  between  Monday  m©rning  and  Thursday  noon, 
(for  I  always  returned  to  my  week-day  lectures,)  while 
more  than  half  the  night  I  sat  up  in  bed,  in  strange  houses, 
unable  to  lie  down  from  oppression  of  breath,  and  longing- 
for  the  morning;  and,  on  my  return  home,  and  sometimes 
while  from  home,  the  remedies  which  I  was  obliged  to  em- 
ploy were  of  the  most  unpleasant  nature." 

One  of  the  painful  "remedies,"  to  which  my  father's 
bilious  and  asthmatic  complaints  compelled  him,  at  this  pe- 
riod, and  for  many  years  after,  to  have  very  frequent  recourse, 
was  strong  antimonial  emetics.  Another  may  be  learned 
from  the  following  passage  of  Mr.Cowper's  letters.     "Mr. 

S has  been  ill  almost  ever  since  you  left  us,  and  last 

Saturday,  as  on  many  foregoing  Saturdays,  was  obliged  to 
clap  on  a  blister,  by  way  of  preparation  for  his  Sunday  la- 
bors. He  cannot  draw  breath  upon  any  other  terms. — If 
holy  orders  were  always  conferred  upon  sucU  conditions,  I 

n 


222  RESIDENCE  [Chap.  VII, 

question  but  even  bishoprics  themselves  would  want  an 
occupant.    But  he  is  eas_y  and  cheerful.''* 

My  father  proceeds  concerning  these  irregular  engage- 
ments: "I  am  not  conscious  that  ambition  was  my  motive, 
though  it  might  intermingle:  but  I  hope  that  zeal  for  the 
honor  of  Christ,  and  love  to  souls  influenced  me.  I  lelt 
no  consciousness  of  blame  in  what  I  did,  nor  perceived, 
that,  in  order  to  consistency,  it  was  needful  for  me  to  choose 
one  ground  or  the  other,  and  act  either  as  a  clergyman  of 
the  establishment,  or  as  one  who  had  receded  from  it.  I 
had  abundant  proof  that  my  irregular  exertions  were  at- 
tended with  much  success:  and  i  did  not,  as  I  have  subse- 
quently done,  see  much  reason  to  doubt,  whether  the  evi- 
dent usefulness  of  these  labors,  in  many  individucd  instances, 
was  not  counterbalanced  by  ths  hindrances  which  such 
proceedings  throw  in  the  way  of  other  ministers,  and  can- 
didates for  the  ministry,  and  by  the  general  obloquy  whiclr 
they  entail  upon  the  whole  body  of  clergy,  in  other  respects 
agreeing  in  sentiment  with  the  persons  who  thus  deviate 
from  established  order.  This  consideration,  taken  alone, 
would  probably  induce  me,  with  my  present  views,  to  de- 
cline such  services,  even  were  I  placed  in  my  former  cir- 
cumstances: but  it  did  not  then  occur  to  me.  Gradually, 
however,  1  became  more  sensible  of  the  inconsistency  and 
impropriety  of  attempting  to  unite  things  in  themselves  dis- 
cordant, and  more  attached  to  the  established  church:  so 
that,  after  I  had  been  a  few  years  in  London,  I  refused  to 
preach  irregularly,  except  as  once  in  the  year  I  consented 
to  exchange  pulpits  with  Mr.  Hill  of  Surrey  Chapel,  that 
being  the  stipulated  condition  of  his  preaching  a  charity- 
sermon  for  the  Lock  Hospital:  and,  when  I  took  my  present 
living  (before  which  I  could  not  be  said,  after  I  came  to  Lon- 
don, to  have  any  thing  directly  from  the  church,)  I  imme- 
diately refused  to  do  this  also,  and  determined  no  more  to 
deviate  from  regularity. 

'4  do  not  say  this  as  blaming  those  who  once  belonged 
to  the  establishment,  but  have  since  been  induced  to  labor 
in  a  different  part  of  the  vineyard;  but  merely  as  account- 
ing for  my  own  conduct;  and  as  bearing  my  decided  testi- 
mony against  the  practice,  at  present  not  common,  of 
holding  a  living  and  yet  preaching  irregularly.  The  rea- 
son appHes,  in  good  measure,  in  respect  of  curacies  and 

•  Vol.  iii,  Letter  81:  to  Rev.  J.  Newton,  Sept.  8, 1753, 


1781—1785.]  AT  OLNEY.  123 

lectureships;  but  not  with  equal  force.  As  to  those  who 
have  nothing  of  the  kind,  neither  Uvings,  lectureships,  nor 
curacies,  and  who  preach  at  one  time  in  a  licensed  meeting- 
house, or  elsewhere,  and  in  a  church  at  another  time;  I 
would  do  the  same,  were  I  a  dissenting  minister,  if  I  were 
permitted  to  do  it.  The  veto  belongs  to  the  bishop,  not 
the  nolo  to  the  preacher." 

The  justness  of  most  of  these  observations  commend* 
them  at  once  to  our  approbation.  On  two  points,  however, 
I  am  not  able  to  discern  the  fairness  of  the  distinctions 
blade  I  know  of  no  engagements  into  which  an  incumbent 
enters  to  comply  with  established  order,  which  are  not  also 
virtually  made  by  a  curate  or  a  lecturer:  nor  can  I  readily 
admit,  that  he  who  holds  a  situation  as  a  minister,  only  by 
virtue  of  his  being  a  clergymen  of  the  established  church, 
can  be  said  to  "have  nothing  from  the  church,"  in  such  a 
sense  as  to  be  free  from  its  rules,  and  from  the  engagements 
which  he  formed  on  being  admitted  to  holy  orders.  It  ap- 
pears to  me,  that  whoever  avails  himself  of  his  clerical 
character  continues  under  the  engagements  which  he  made 
in  order  to  acquire  it.  Though,  however,  I  thus  venture 
to  question  the  correctness  of  my  father's  reasoning  on  this 
particular  point,  I  am  confident  that  it  was  perfectly  satis- 
factory to  his  own  mind,  and  implied  no  sort  of  subterfuge 
or  evasion.  Beyond  all  doubt  he  viewed  things  just  as  he 
here  states  them. 

In  connexion  with  this  discussion  on  irregular  ministra- 
tions, the  reader  may  perhaps  not  be  displeased  to  have 
placed  before  him  what  has  always  appeared  to  me  a  very 
excellent  passage,  on  itinerant  preachings  extracted  from  my 
father's  Commentary  on  2  Chronicles,  xvii. — "Notwith- 
standing the  prejudices  of  mankind,  and  the  indiscretions  of 
individuals,  an  itinerant  preacher,  if  duly  qualified  and  sent 
forth,  is  one  of  the  most  honorable  and  useful  characters, 
that  can  be  found  upon  earth:  and  there  needs  no  other 
proof  that,  when  this  work  is  done  properly  and  with  perse- 
verance, it  forms  the  grand  method  of  spreading  widely, 
and  rendering  efficacious,  religious  knowledge,  than  the 
experience  of  the  church  in  all  ages;  for  great  reformations 
and  revivals  of  religion  have  generally  been  thus  effected, 
It  is  especially  sanctioned  by  the  example  of  Christ  and  his 
apostles,  and  recommended  as  the  divine  method  of  spread- 
ing the  gospel  through  the  nations  of  the  earth;  itinerant 
preaching  having  almost  always  preceded,  and  made  way 


RESIDENCE  [Cha?.  VII. 

for,  the  f?tated  mmistry  of  regular  pastors.     But  it  is  a  work 
which  requires  pecuhar  talents  and  dispositions,  and  a  pe- 
cuHar  call  in  providence;  and  is  not  rashly  and  hastily  to  be 
Tentured  upon  by  every  novice,  who  ha^earned  to  speak 
about  the  gospel,  and  has  more  zeal,  than  knowledge,  pru- 
dence, humility,  or  experience.     An  unblemished  character, 
a  disinterested  spirit,  an  exemplary  deadness  to  the  world, 
unaffected  humility,   deep  acquaintance  with    the  human 
heart,  and  preparation  for  enduring  the  cross,  not  only  with 
boldness,  but   with  meekness,  patience,  and  sweetness  of 
temper,  are   indispensably  necessary  in   such   a   service. 
They  who  engage  in  it  should  go  upon  broad  scriptural 
grounds,  and  dwell  chiefly  upon  those  grand  essentials  of 
religion,  in  which  pious  men  of  different  persuasions  are 
agreed;  plainly  proving  every  thing  from  the  word  of  God, 
running  nothing  into  extremes,  and  avoiding  all  disputes, 
however  urged  to  it,  about  the  shibboleths  of  a  party.     In 
this  way  itinerant  preaching  is  a  blessing  which  all,  who  love 
the  souls  of  men,  must  wish  to  be  vouchsafed  to  every  part 
of  every  nation  upon  earth.     And,  if  those  who  are  in  au- 
thority would  employ  select  men  of  known  and  approved 
piety  and  ability,  protected  and  countenanced  by  them,  to 
go  from  city  to  city,  and  from  village  to  village,  through  the 
kingdom,  teaching  in  every  place  the  plain  acknowledged 
truths  and  precepts  of  the  Bible,  immense  good  might  be 
done.     Those  stated  teachers,  who  have  been  grossly  neg- 
ligent or  profligate,  must  either  be  disgraced  or  reformed; 
others  might  be  stirred  up  to  use  greater  diligence;  and 
the  instructions  of  stated  faithful  ministers  would  receive 
an  additional  sanction,  which  could  not  fail  of  producing  a 
happy  effect." — It  may  be  observed  that  at  the  period  of 
the  Reformation,  in  the  reign  of  Edward  VI,  a  practice   of 
this  sort  existed  in   our  church,  under  the  sanction  of  au- 
thority.    Six  eminent  persons,  (of  whom  John  Knox  was 
one,)  were  appointed  to  go  through  various  districts  of  the   % 
kingdom  as  preachers:*  and  that  such  an  office  was  not   *< 
continued  has  probably  been  a  great  loss  to  our  church.     I 
have  heard  a  wise  and  excellent  clergymen  lately  deceased, 
who  was  always  a  strict  adherent  to  order,  lament  the  mis- 
management of  things  in  the  Church  of  England,  as  com- 
pared with  some  other  establishments.     Had  Whitfield  and 
Wesley   (he   said,)  arisen  in  the  Church  of  Rome,  that 

*  Burnettand  Strype.    See  M'Crie's  Ufe  of  Kaox,anno  155L 


1781—1785.]  AT  OLNEY.  125 

hierarchy  would  have  given  scope  to  their  zeal,  and  yet 
have  made  it  conduce  to  the  support  of  the  church,  instead 
of  being  exercised  to  its  subversion. 

Before  we  quit  this  subject,  I  would  observe,  that  one  in- 
stance of  the  usefulness  of  my  father's  irregular  labors,  while 
he  resided  in  Buckinghamshire,  is  entitled  to  particular  speci- 
fication. It  was  thus  announced  to  him  by  his  old  and  valu- 
ed friend  the  Rev.  Dn  Ryland  of  Bristol,  about  a  month  be- 
fore his  last  illness.  "What  led  me  to  write  now,  was  a 
letter  I  received  from  Dr.  Carey  yesterday,  in  which  he 
says,  'Pray  give  my  thanks  to  dear  Mr.  Scott  for  his  History 
of  the  Synod  of  Dort.  I  would  write  to  him  if  I  could  com- 
mand time.  If  there  be  any  thing  of  the  work  of  God  in  my 
soul,  I  owe  much  of  it  to  his  preaching,  when  1  first  set  out 
in  the  ways  of  the  Lord.' "  And  the  following  is  my  fa- 
ther's reply  in  his  last  letter  to  Dr.  R.,  dated  Feb.  15,  1821. 
"I  am  surprised  as  well  as  gratified  at  your  message  from 
Dr.  Carey.  He  heard  me  preach  only  a  few  times,  and 
that,  as  far  as  I  know,  in  my  rather  irregular  excursions: 
though  I  often  conversed  and  prayed  in  his  presence,  and 
endeavored  to  answer  his  sensible  and  pertinent  inquiries, 
when  at  Hackleton.  But  to  have  suggested  even  a  single 
useful  hint  to  such  a  mind  as  his,  may  be  considered  as  a 
high  privilege,  and  matter  of  gratitude.  Send  my  kindest 
remembrance  to  him  when  you  write." 

It  can  hardly  be  necessary  to  observe,  that  the  person 
referred  to  is  the  distinguished  baptist  missionary  in  Bengal, 
who  is  perhaps  better  entitled  than  any  other  individual,  to 
the  praise  of  having  given  \he  first  impulse  to  the  extraordi- 
nary exertions  of  the  present  age,  for  the  propagation  of 
Christianity  in  the  world.  I  well  remember  the  late  Rev. 
Andrew  Fuller  reporting,  at  my  father's  house,  in  the  year 
1792,  the  impression  which  had  been  made  upon  an  associ- 
ation-meeting of  his  own  denomination,  by  Mr.  Carey's  ser- 
mon, on  the  address  to  the  church,  (Isaiah  liv,  2,)  Lengthen 
thy  cords^  and  strengthen  thy  stakes;  from  which  he  pressed 
the  two  propositions  that  we  should  expect  great  things,  and 
attempt  great  things.  Hence  originated  the  Baptist  Mis- 
sionary Society.  The  London  Missionary  Society  followed; 
then  the  Church  Missionary  Society;  then  the  Bible  Socie- 
ty; and,  in  succession,  various  other  institutions,  all,  we 
trust,  destined  to  contribute  their  share  to  that  great  and 
blessed  consummation, 

*"By  prophecy's  unerring  finger  mai'k'd 
To  feith's  stroug  eye." 
*11 


UQ  RESIDENCE  [Chap.  VIL 

"During  this  term  of  my  life,"  my  father  proceeds,  "I 
was  called  on,  in  consequence  of  its  being  impracticable  for 
the  Rev.  Henry  Venn  and  the  Rev.  Thomas  Robinson  to 
perform  a  service  designed  for  one  of  them,  to  preach  a 
funeral  sermon  at  Creaton,  in  Northamptonshire,  for  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Maddox,  who  had  labored  there  very  usefully  for 
several  years.  The  day  was  very  wet,  and  I  rode  twenty 
miles  in  a  heavy  rain  to  the  service,  and  the  same  in  re- 
turning from  it:  yet  during  the  time  of  service  it  was  fair. 
The  concourse  of  people  was  very  great,  and  the  church 
very  small.  I  ventured  to  go  into  the  church-yard,  where 
I  preached  to  at  least  two  thousand  five  hundred  persons. 
The  congregation  was  attentive  to  a  degree  seldom  wit- 
nessed: and  for  twenty  years  after,  the  efl'ects  of  that  ser- 
mon were  not  forgotten,  even  if  they  now  are.  On  the 
following  Sunday,  I  preached  twice  in  the  same  church- 
yard to  nearly  as  large  congregations:  but  I  never,  on  any 
other  occasion  preached  in  the  open  air. 

"In  this  connexion  an  incident  may  be  introduced  which 
occurred  at  an  early  period,  but  my  part  in  which  only  now 
became  known,  in  one  of  my  excursions  into  Northampton- 
shire. 

"As  far  back  as  the  year  1776*,  the  Northampton  news- 
paper, during  several  successive  weeks,  contained  sharp 
disputatious  papers  between  two  parties  of  the  independent 
dissenters,  belonging  to  the  meeting  of  which  Dr,  Dod- 
dridge had  formerly  been  minister.  I  felt  much  displeased 
with  the  spirit  manifested  in  these  papers;  and  1  wrote 
{under  what  signature  I  do  not  now  remember,)  a  letter 
shewing  the  bad  tendency  of  such  discussions  in  a  public 
print,  and  of  these  mutual  criminations  of  persons  prq/emn^ 
godliness;  concluding  with  the  apostle's  words.  If  ye  bite 
and  devmir  one  another^  take  heed  that  ye  be  not  consumed  one 
of  another.'"  (Gal.  v,  15.)  The  consequence  was,  that  in 
the  next  newspaper  both  parties  entreated  the  writer  to 
come  forward,  and  be  the  umpire  of  their  differences!  Little 
did  they  think  how  incompetent  he  was  tor  such  an  arduous 
oihce,  or  suspect  his  youth  and  inexperience. — I  took  no 
notice  of  this  proposal.  The  publisher  of  the  paper  de- 
clared his  purpose  of  inserting  no  more  on  the  subject;  the 
dispute  was  so  far  quashed:  and,  though  many  conjectures 
were  fonned,  the  writer  of  the  letter  was  never  known  till 
some  time  after  I  had  removed  to  Olney.  But,  being  then 
sii  Northampton,  where  I  lectured  in  a  private  family,  I  in 


1781—1785.]  AT  OLNEY.  127 

the  co)arse  of  conversation  told  some  of  the  principal  per- 
sons that  I  had  written  the  letter;  and  had  the  satisfaction 
to  hejtr  them  aWow,  that  it  had  indeed  proved  a  word  in 
season. '^^ 

In  the  summer  1783,  while  curate  of  Olney,  my  father 
made  a  visit  to  Shropshire,  in  company  with  his  highly  es- 
teemed friend  the  Rev,  John  Mayor,  Vicar  of  Shawbury 
near  Shrewsbury;  and  was  there  confined  with  a  very  dan- 
gerous illness  of  some  weeks'  continuance.  As  an  extract 
of  a  letter  from  Mr.  Mayor,  written  since  my  father's  death, 
records  this  event,  so  distressing  at  the  time  to  his  absent 
family,  and  will  also  serve  as  an  introduction  to  some  letters 
which  are  to  follow,  I  shall  here  insert  it. 

"My  first  acquaintance  with  your  father  was,  when  Mr. 
Charles  of  Bala  and  I  were  undergraduates,  and  spent  our 
long  vacation  at  Olney,  soon  after  Mr.  Newton's  acquaint- 
ance commenced  with  him.  I  paid  my  first  visit  to  him  the 
beginning  of  September,  1782,  when  greatly  disturbed  with 
scruples  about  baptizing  the  children  of  the  openly  profane. 
His  integrity  in  declining  preferment  some  years  before, 
from  scruples  respecting  the  Athanasian  Creed,  induced  me 
to  take  a  journey  of  a  hundred  miles  to  coni^ult  him,  when 
travelUng  was  very  painful  to  me. — Before  I  could  open 
my  distress  on  account  of  baptizing,  I  was  led  by  the  asser- 
tions  of  Mr.  R to  say   somewhat  on  the  mistakes 

which  many  in  my  neighborhood,  called  Calvinists,  ran  into, 
respecting  points  supposed  to  be  Calvin's  doctrine,  which 
were  attended  with  the  worst  effects  on  their  tempers  and 
conduct.  Sin  was  considered  by  them  as  a  pitiable  infirmi- 
ty, rather  than  as  deserving  wrath  and  condemnation.  The 
character  of  God  was  clouded;  and  the  glory  of  redemption, 
and  the  dispensation  we  are  under  by  the  gospel,  not  ac- 
knowledged to  the  comfort  of  returning  sinners.  This  led 
into  many  discussions  afterwards,  which  made  your  father 
say,  that  he  thought  my  scruples  about  baptism  were  per- 
mitted, to  bring  us  together  for  the  purpose  of  opening 
our  minds  to  each  other  on  subjects  which  required  explan- 
ation. I  had  my  scruples  removed  by  a  single  sentence. 
Your  father  said,  Hhe  right  of  children  to  baptism  is  not 
their  parents'  faith,  but  the  profession  of  it,  so  far  as  to 
bring  them  to  the  ordinance.'  Archbishop  Leighton  was  of 
the  same  mind. — Mr.  Scott  returned  with  me,  after  a  secoird 
visit  to  Olney,  in  the  summer  of  1783.  H©  was  not  well 
soon  after  we  left  Olney;  and,  before  we  reached  Shiffnal, 


m  RESIDENCE  AT  OLNEY.      [Chap.  VII. 

he  was  obliged  to  lie  down  at  a  little  ale-house,  while  1  sent 
for  a  chaise,  and  thus  conveyed  him  to  Shiffnal,  and  thence 
to  Shawbury.  His  hfe  was  despaired  of:  but  it  pleased  God 
to  bless  the  physician's  prescriptions,  and,  after  almost  a 
month's  illness,  he  rapidly  acquired  strength,  and  preached 
for  me  the  last  Sunday  twice,  if  not  three  times.  I  drove 
him  back  in  my  gig  to  Olney,  recovering  strength  every 
step  of  his  journey.  He  had  given  me  directions  to  make 
his  will,  and  intended  to  leave  me  executor,  to  print  such  of 
his  papers  as  I  should  think  advisaJWe:  a  great  honor,  which 
I  bless  God  I  was  reUeved  from  enjoying  by  the  happy  turn 
given  to  the  state  of  his  health.  I  rejoice  in  the  many  use- 
ful years  he  since  spent  upon  earth,  to  the  edification  of  his 
own,  and,  I  trust,  of  future  generations.  I  paid  him  several 
other  visits  at  Olney,  in  one  of  which  I  buried,  at  Weston, 
an  infant  child  of  his,  a  few  months  old.  I  missed  hardly 
any  opportunity  of  paying  my  respects  to  him  at  London, 
and  at  Aston  Sanford.  I  always  highly  respected  his  under- 
standing, as  of  the  first  order:  his  humility  in  searching  for, 
and  readiness  in  receiving  truth  from  such  as  were  far  in- 
ferior to  him  in  every  thing:  his  great  ^ncerity,  prudence, 
and  uniform  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  salvation  of 
souls. — He  was  cheerful,  with  gravity:  and  never  seemed  to 
lose  sight  of  the  great  business  of  life,  to  glorify  God,  and 
edify  his  brethren,  and  all  about  him." 

At  Olney  my  father  published  a  Thanksgiving  Sermon 
on  the  close  of  the  American  war,  preached  July  29,  1784; 
and,  about  nine  months  afterwards,  his  Discourse  on  Repen- 
tance.    Of  the  latter  he  thus  speaks  in  his  narrative. 

"The  Discourse  on  Repentance  was  first  preached  as  a 
sermon  to  a  very  small  congregation  at  Olney,  and  after- 
wards to  aver}'  large  congregation  (irregularly)  at  Paulers- 
pury,  in  Northamptonshire,  where  it  produced  permanent 
effects  in  several  instances.  I  then  wrote  and  enlarged  it 
for  the  press,  commonly  with  a  child  on  my  knee,  or  rocking 
the  cradle,  and  my  wife  working  by  me:  for  a  study  and 
a  separate  fire  were  more  than  my  purse  would  allow.  I 
augured  much  usefulness  from  this  work,  as  did  my  wife 
also,  far  more  than  from  the  'Force  of  Truth:'  yet,  having 
printed  seven  hundred  and  fifty  copies,  and  given  away  at 
least  a  hundred,  I  do  not  think  the  rest  of  the  impression 
would  ever  have  been  sold,  had  i  continued  at  Olney. 
Even  of  the  'Force  of  Truth,'  ten  years  elapsed  before  the 
first  edition,  consisting  of  a  thousand  copies,  was  disposed  of; 


1779—1785.]         CORRESPONDENCE.  129 

though  now  nearly  that  number  is  usually  sold  in  a  year.* 
But  several  persons,  who  expressed  much  approbation  of 
that  work,  decidedly  opposed  the  Discourse  on  Repentance. 
— So  discouraging  h  beginning  had  my  labors  from  the 
press!" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

eORRESPONDENCE  DURING  THE  PERIOD  OF  THE  PRECEDING 
CHAPTER. 

Such  is  the  narrative  which  my  father  has  left  of  the 
principal  occurrences  during  his  residence  at  Olney.  I 
shall  now  present  extracts  of  his  correspondence  which  may 
illustrate  the  course  of  events,  or  the  progress  of  his  mind, 
at  that  period. 

Olney,  it  will  readily  be  conceived  from  facts  which  have 
already  met  the  reader's  eye,  notwithstanding  its  having 
been  favored  with  the  residence  and  labors  of  Mr.  Newton 
during  sixteen  years,  was  by  no  means,  when  my  father 
removed  to  it,  a  very  inviting  scene  of  ministerial  service. 
Indeed  the  temper  manifested,  when  a  successor  Was  io  be 
appointed  to  Mr.  N.,  cannot  fail  to  surprise  and  offend  us; 
and  ought  certainly,  as  my  father  intimates,  to  be  borne  in 
mind  when  his  ministry  there  is  under  consideration.  Olney, 
at  that  period,  was  a  much  divided  place:  the  people  were 
full  of  religious  notions — of  that  "knowledge  which  puffeth 
up," — while  the  "love  that  edifieth"  was  comparatively 
rare.  There  were,  no  doubt,  many  excellent  Christian 
characters  among  them;  but,  in  general,  the  religion  of  the 
place  was  far  from  being  of  a  sufficiently  practical  character: 
and  it  cannot  be  doubted,  that  the  exquisite  candor  and 
tenderness  of  Mr.  N.'s  temper  had  failed  of  adequately 
counteracting  the  existing  tendency  of  things.  Many  indeed 
were  nursed  up  to  a  morbid  delicacy  of  feeling,  which 
could  not  bear  the  faithful  application  of  scriptural  admoni- 
tions, even  by  his  gentle  hand,  without  expostulation  and 
complaint. 

There  is  the  less  need  to  scruple  this  statement,  because 
I  trust,  and  it  was  my  father's  hope  and  belief,  that  the 

•  Six  thousand  copies  of  a  cheap  edition  have  been  sold  within  the 
last  six  months. 


130  CORRESPONDENCE.  [Chap.  VIII. 

religious  state  of  Olney  is  materially  amended;  and  that 
that  town,  in  some  degree,  exhibits  the  rare  example  of  a 
Christicin  community  considerably  recovered  from  a  corrupt 
state,  contracted  by  the  abuse  of  the  best  principles. — The 
statement  also  seems  due  to  the  subject  of  these  memoirs, 
and  it  will  receive  confirmation  from  what  is  now  to  follow. 

Of  my  father's  first  proposed  removal  to  Olney,  I  find 
only  the  following  brief  notice,  in  a  letter  to  his  younger 
sister,  dated  Weston,  Sept.  28,  1779. — ^4  have  some 
thoughts  of  removing  from  this  place  to  Olney.  It  will  not 
be  a  very  important  advantage  in  worldly  things;  but  it  will 
bring  an  additional  care  upon  me  of  near  two  thousand  souls. 
But  the  Lord  will  provide." 

In  less  than  a  month  after  this,  the  burst  of  opposition 
had  taken  place  at  Olney,  and  had  produced  its  effect  in 
disconcerting  Mr.  Newton's  plan,  as  appears  from  a  letter 
of  his  to  my  father,  of  the  19th  of  October,  1779.  He  says, 
"1  am  grieved  as  often  as  I  think  of  the  strange  hasty  spirit 
that  discovered  itself  among  my  poor  people,  and  which  I 
fear  has  deprived  them  of  the  comfort  and  benefit  I  am 
persuaded  they  would  have  received  from  your  ministry..... 
I  could  not  foresee  what  happened:  my  disappointment  and 
concern  have  been  great,  but  I  cannot  help  it."  The  mor- 
tification of  this  excellent  man  was  not  yet,  however,  at  its 
height;  for  the  person  whom  his  people  actually  pitched 
upon  to  succeed  him  was  not  yet  in  view,  or  at  least  was 
not  known  to  him:  for  he  forms  other  plans  for  them. — He 
concludes  his  letter  in  that  strain  of  pious  confidence  in 
God  which  so  much  distinguished  him.  "What  a  satisfaction 
it  is  to  know,  that  all  things  are  at  the  Lord's  disposal,  and 
under  his  management;  and  that,  in  a  way  beyond  our  ap- 
prehension, he  can  and  will  overrule  them  for  good.  I  can 
hardly  now  conjecture  how  I  once  lived,  when  I  lived 
without  God  in  the  world.  I  was  then  in  the  situation  of 
a  ship  at  sea,  exposed  to  storms,  surrounded  with  rocks 
and  quicksands,  and  without  either  pilot,  rudder,  or  com- 
pass. Yet  I  was  so  stupid  that  I  apprehended  no  danger. 
But  surely,  with  the  views  I  now  have  of  human  life,  I 
should  be  quite  miserable,  should  soon  sink  under  the  pres- 
sure of  care  and  anxiety,  if  I  were  not  invited,  and  in  some 
measure  enabled,  to  commit  my  ways  and  concerns  to  the 
Lord,  who  has  promised  to  care  for  me. — I  rejoice  in  the 
assurance,  that  he  is  and  will  be  your  guard  and  comforter. 
My  heart  wishes  you  much  peace  and  great  success  in  his 

•  .  ■  # 


1779—1785.]        CORRESPONDENCE.  131 

service.  He  is  a  good  master,  and  his  service,  though  not 
exempt  from  trials,  is  honorable  and  pleasant.  So  you  find 
it:  may  you  go  on  from  strength  to  strength!" 

Another  letter  from  the  same  hand,  dated  July  27,  1780, 
implies  a  return  in  some  of  the  people  of  Olney  to  a  better 
mind.  "I  am  glad  you  have  opportunity  of  preaching  some- 
times at  Olney.  I  hear  more  and  more  from  thence  ef  the 
concern  many  feel  for  the  share  they  had  iri  preventing 
your  living  among  them.  I  hope  the  Lord  will  sanctify  the 
present  growing  inconveniences  they  complain  of,  to  hum* 
ble  and  prove  them,  to  shew  them  what  is  in  their  hearts, 
and  to  prepare  them  for  a  due  improvement  of  a  better 
supply  hereafter." 

This  letter  also  contains  the  first  allusion  that  I  find  to 
my  father's  visits  to  Leicester,  where  he  contracted  an  inti- 
mate friendship  with  the  late  Rev.  Thomas  Robinson,  and 
which  town  afterwards  became  to  him  a  favorite  place  of 
resort.  "I  have  lately  had  a  visit,"  Mr.  N.  says,  "from  Mr. 
Ludlam,  who  brought  me  a  letter  from  Mr.  Robinson:  so  that 
I  have  heard  of  your  visit  to  Leicester  from  others,  as  well 
as  from  yourself.  I  trust  the  Lord  whom  you  serve  is  and 
will  be  with  you,  statedly  and  occasionally,  abroad  and  at 
home." 

I  persuade  myself  that  I  shall  meet  with  ready  indul- 
gence for  introducing  still  further  extracts  from  the  letters  of 
this  justly  beloved  character,  whose  epistolary  excellence  is 
also  generally  acknowledged.  February  17,  1781,  after  my 
father  had  accepted  the  curacy  of  Olney,  Mr.  N.  writes: 
"Had  the  curacy  of  Ravenstone  been  at  my  disposal,  I 

should  not  have  given  it  to  Mr.   .     But  such  is  the 

Lord's  pleasure,  and  therefore  it  must  be  right.  We  agreed 

that  Mr. had  done"  (occasioned)  "some  good  at  Olney.- 

We  shall  find  he  will  be  useful  in  the  same  way  at  Ravens- 
tone.. ..We  are  short-sighted,  but  the  Lord  sees  things  in  all 
their  consequences,  and  has  views  worthy  of  his  wisdom, 
of  which  we  are  not  aware.  How  often  should  we  spoil 
his  perfect  plan  were  we  able:  but  it  is  our  mercy,  no  less 
than  his  right,  that  he  will  do  all  his  pleasure.  Stand  still 
and  wait,  and  you  shall  at  length  admire  the  propriety  of 
his  management  in  all  things.  What  can  we  desire  better 
than  an  infallible  guidance?.. ..In  my  Letters  to  a  Nobleman 
you  have  descriptions  of  my  heart's  feelings  and  exercises, 
to  which  I  can  add  little  new.  I  am  kept,  but  surely  it  is 
by  the  power  of  God.     *pou§ou|xevo?  (1  P^t-  i,  3,)  is  an  e,mf 


132  CORRESPONDENCE.         [Chap.  Vlil. 

phatical  word:  it  well  expresses  our  situation.  We  are  like 
a  besieged  city:  the  gates  of  hell,  the  powers  of  darkness, 
encompass  us  on  every  side;  but  we  are  guarded,  garrisoned 
by  the  power  of  God.  The  name  of  the  besieged  city  is, 
The  Lord  is  there.  Our  defence  and  our  supplies  are  from 
on  high,  and  therefore  cannot  be  intercepted.  Our  ene- 
mies may,  they  will  fight,  but  they  cannot  prevail.  The 
captain  of  our  salvation  knows  all  their  plots,  despises  all 
their  strength,  can  disconcert  and  discomfit  them,  and, 
whenever  he  pleases,  compel  them  to  raise  the  siege  in  a 
moment.     We  have  a  good  promise,  Isa.  xxviii,  5,  6.     So 

likewise  the  whole  of  Psalm  xlvi I  am  daily  with  you  in 

spirit:  your  comfort  and  your  success  are  daily  near  my 
heart,  and  I  am  doubly  interested  in  you,  as  we  are  both 
connected  with  01ney....The  season  of  the  year,  as  well  as 
more  important  reasons,  puts  Horace's  words  often  into  my 
mouth,  O  rw.?,  quando  te  aspiciam?  It  must  not  be  yet,  but 
1  hope  the  day  will  come,  when  we  shall  resume  our 
walks,  and  revisit  our  favorite  trees." 

The  following  is  characteristic  of  the  writer,  and  at  the 
same  time  conveys  the  information,  which  my  father's  nar- 
rative has  not  given,  that,  on  his  resignation  of  the  curacy 
of  Ravenstone,  unsuccessful  attempts  were  made  to  de- 
prive him  of  that  of  Weston  also. 

"March  31,  1781.  My  dear  friend,  I  had  written  to  you 
and  my  letter  was  going  off,  when  your's  came,  and  made 
mine  unnecessary,  by  what  you  yourself  said  of  the  subjects 
I  had  in  view.  I  then  thought  I  would  wait  till  I  could  con- 
gratulate you  and  Mrs.  Scott  and  myself  on  your  removal  to 
Olney,  which  I  hope  I  may  now  do.  May  the  good,  the 
great  Shepherd  dwell  with  you,  (beyourg/on/  and  defence) 
in  your  heart,  house,  and  assemblies!  I  have  been  much 
with  you  in  spirit  of  late.  My  love  to  you,  if  you  were  in 
another  place,  and  to  the  people  ©f  Olney,  if  they  had 
another  minister,  would  singly  excite  my  attention  and  best 
wishes:  at  present  these  motives  are  united,  and  strengthen 
each  other. 

*'Methinks  I  see  you  sitting  in  my  old  corner  in  the 
study. — 1  will  warn  you  of  one  thing.  That  room  (do  not 
start,)  used  to  be  haunted.  I  cannot  say  I  ever  saw  or 
heard  any  thing  with  my  bodily  organs,  but  I  have  been 
sure  there  were  evil  spirits  in  it,  and  very  near  me:  A 
spirit  of  folly,  a  spirit  of  indolence,  a  spirit  of  unbeHef, 
and  many  others — indeed  their  name  is  Legion.     But  why 


1779—1783.]        CORRESPONDENCE.  133 

should  I  say  they  are  in  your  study,  when  they  followed  me 
to  London,  and  still  pester  me  here?  I  shall  be  glad,  how- 
ever, if  your  house  be  fairly  rid  of  them.  I  am  sure  they 
were  there  once.  I  hope,  likewise^  you  will  have  better 
company  when  you  are  there  alone,  more  frequently  than 
1  had.  I  hope  the  Lord  has  sometimes  favored  it  with  his 
gracious  presence.  I  hope,  if  the  walls  have  been  wit- 
nesses of  my  complaints  and  shame,  they  have  been  like- 
wise to  my  attempts  to  praise  him,  and  to  many  prayers 
wiiich  I  have  offered  up  for  my  successor,  long  before  I 
knew  who  he  was  to  be.  May  all,  and  more  than  all  that 
I  ever  besought  him  for  myself,  be  vouchsafed  to  you,  and 
the  blessings  I  have  entreated  for  the  people  be  afforded  to 
them  under  your  ministry! 

"I  understand  the  designs  of  those  who  would  have  de- 
prived you  of  Weston  have  been  defeated.  It  is  therefore 
tlie  Lord's  pleasure  you  should  keep  it  for  the  present.  In 
this  view  I  ought  to  be,  and  am  glad  of  it,  as  I  know  it  was 
much  upon  your  heart.  Yet,  had  he  appointed  otherwise, 
I  should  not  have  been  so  sorry,  as  you  would  probably 
have  been  at  the  first.  However  expedient  and  apparently 
necessary  your  serving  Weston  may  seem,  it  may,  perhaps, 
be  the  chief  cause  of  inconvenience  to  you  at  Olney.  When 
you  are  absent  from  home,  the  people  will  be  under  a  con- 
tinual temptation  of  mixing  with  those,  who  will  do  all  in 
their  power  to  prejudice  them  against  you,  at  least  against 

the  church.     Such  a  spirit  I  know  is  very  prevalent It  is 

possible  likewise  that  the  Weston  people  may  not  always 
be  content  with  one  service  a  day.  But  I  know  your  views 
and  motives  are  such  as  the  Lord  will  bless.  To  day  is  our's: 
what  is  matter  of  future  duty,  He  will  make  known  in 
his  time.  I  cannot  doubt  but  your  labors  at  Olney  will  be 
welcome  and  acceptable  to  the  best  of  his  people,  and  I  can- 
jiotbut  hope  He  will  raise  you  up  a  new  people  there,  and 
cause  you  to  rejoice  in  some  over  whom  I  have  often 
mourned.  You  desired  to  follow  his  leading,  and  I  cannot 
believe  he  would  have  led  you  where  you  are,  if  he  hm^ 
not  something  important  for  you  to  do.  Be  of  good  cour- 
age, wait  patiently  his  leisure,  and  he  will  give  you  the  de- 
sire of  your  heart. 

"My  mouth  waters  to  come  to  you:  but  it  cannot  be  till 

some  time  (I  know  not  how  long)  after  Easter But  all 

these  things  are  in  the  Lord's  hand.  When  I  see  the  cloud 
tak^n  up  from  the  tabernacle,  I  shall  be  glad  to  move; 
12 


134  CORRESPONDENCE.  [Chap.  VIII. 

otherwise  I  dare  not.  I  am  so  blind  to  consequences  that  I 
tremble  at  the  thoughts  of  forming  a  plan  for  mjself. — 
Your  prayers  will  be  among  the  means  to  help  me  for- 
ward  A  thousand  ifs  may  be  suggested,  but  they  are  all 

in  the  Lord's  hand;  and  therefore,  if  it  be  his  will  that  I 
should  visit  you,  nothing  shall  prevent  it.  If  he  sees  it  not 
expedient  or  proper,  he  will  not  send  an  angel  to  tell  me 
so,  but  he  will  tell  me  by  his  providence.  If  he  wills  me 
to  stay  here,  why  should  I  wish  to  be  somewhere  else?  If 
we  were  not  prone  to  prefer  our  own  will  to  his,  we  should 
never  complain  of  a  disappointment.  This  is  the  lesson  I 
want  to  learn.  1  am  so  much  at  teaching  it  to  others,  that 
it  might  be  supposed  I  had  acquired  it  myself.  But  the 
Lord  and  my  own  heart  know  how  far  I  am  from  having 
attained. 

"My  love  to  your  new  people:  I  have  not  room  to  par- 
ticularize names,  but  I  love  them  all.  Believe  me,  your 
affectionate  friend,  John  Newton." 

I  have  one  more  letter  of  Mr.  Newton's  to  insert,  and  I 
shall  introduce  it  here,  though  rather  by  anticipation.  It 
is  dated  March  15,  1782.  I  think  no  reader  would  wish  it 
omitted.  ^ 

"This  morning  I  hare  hope  of  indulging  myself  in  half 
un  hour's  pen-chat,  with  my  dear  friend  Mr.  Scott;  a  pleas- 
ure I  could  not  have  sooner,  though  the  receipt  of  your's 
made  me  desirous  of  writing,  .  I  thought  I  had  reserved 
time  last  Saturday,  but  unexpected!  company  came  in  and 
ran  away  with  it:  and  this  is  often  the  case. 

"I  should  have  liked  to  have  been  with  you  at  Leicester. 
I  love  the  place,  the  sheep,  and  the  shepherd  of  that  fold, 
and  I  love  the  friends  and  ministers  you  met  there.  I  am 
glad  you  had  pleasure  and  profit  in  your  excursion.  I  can 
guess  that  the  contrast  you  felt  on  your  return  was  painful: 
for  I  likewise  have  been  at  Olney,  and  have  preached  once 
and  again,  when  the  congregation  has  reminded  me  of  the 
scattered  ships*  of  iEneas  which  survived  the  storm, 

— rari  nantes  in  gurgite  vasto. 

I  likewise  have  preached  at  Leicester  and  Olney  in  the 
same  week,  and  been  conscious  of  the  difference  both  in 
numbers  and  attention.  1  can  assure  jow  that,  though  I  put 
the  best  face  upon  things,  and  was  upon  the  whole  com- 

*  The  classical  reader  will  excuse  a  slight  inaccuracy  here. 


4779—1785.]        CORRESPONDENCE.  135 

fortable,  yet  my  chief  comfort  in  my  situation  there  latter- 
ly, sprang  from  a  persuasion  that  I  was  in  the  post  the  Lord 
had  assigned  me;  that  he  knew  I  was  there,  and  why  I  was 
there;  that,  as  a  centinel,  it  would  be  unsoldierly  to  indulge 
a  wish  of  being  relieved  sooner  than  my  commander  ap- 
pointed. I  thought,  so  far  as  my  concern  was  dictated  by 
a  regard  to  the  honor  of  the  gospel  and  the  good  of  souls, 
it  was  right;  but  it  was  the  smallest  part  which  I  durst  as- 
sign simply  to  that  cause;  and  that  all  the  uneasy  feelings 
of  Mr.  Self,  on  his  own  account,  were  not  of  that  impor- 
tance which  he  pretended.  There  were  a  few  who  loved 
me  for  the  Lord's  sake,  and  who,  I  could  perceive,  were 
fed  and  brought  forward  by  my  ministry;  and,  though  they 
were  but  few,  I  durst  not  say  that  their  edification  and  aflfec- 
t'on  were  not  an  over-recompense  for  all  the  disagreeables. — 
Such  considerations  as  these  are  present  with  you  likewise. 
The  Lord  will  support  you  and  comfort  you,  and  can,  when- 
ever he  pleases,  either  make  your  service  more  pleasant  at 
Olney,or  assignyou  a  more  comfortable  situation  elsewhere.  I 
never  had  one  serious  thought  of  a  removal,  till  the  evening 
I  received  Mr.  Thornton's  offer  of  St.  Mary  Woolnoth.  Even 
then,  when  it  came  to  the  point,  it  cost  me  something  to  part 
with  them:  and  had  the  proposal  been  made  a  year  or  two 
sooner,  1  should  have  found  more  difficulty  in  accepting  it. 
His  hour  and  His  methods  are  best,  and  it  is  good  to  wait  foi; 
him  and  upon  him;  for  none  wTio  so  wait  shall  be  disappoint^ 
ed.  When  I  first  went  to  Olney,  and  for  a  good  while  after- 
wards, 1  had  no  more  reason  to  ex[)ect  such  a  post  as  I  am  now 
in,  than  I  have  now  to  expect  a  removal  to  Lambeth.  But  the 
Lord  never  is  at  a  loss  for  means  to  effect  his  own  purposes. 
He  can  provide  friends,  open  doors,  remove  mountains,  anJ 
bring  the  most  unlikely  things  to  pass.. ..And,  when  we  have 
finished  our  course,  if  he  is  pleased  to  accept  us,  it  will  make 
no  difference  whether  we  die  curates,  or  rectors,  or  bishops. 
"One  thing  is  needful:  but  this  one  thing  includes  many, 
and  may  be  considered  in  various  respects.  The  one  thing 
for  a  sinner  is  to  know  Jesus  and  his  salvation.  Th«  one 
thing  for  a  believer  is  to  live  to  his  will,  and  to  make  him 
his  all;  to  admire,  contemplate,  resemble,  and  serve  him. 
A  believer  is  a  child  of  God;  a  minister  is,  in  an  especial 
and  appropriate  sense,  a  servant,  though  a  child  likewise. 
The  one  thing  for  a  servant,  or  a  steward  in  the  house  of 
God  is  to  be  faithful;  that  is,  to  be  simply  and  without  re- 
serve, or  any  allowed  interfering  motive,  devoted  and  re- 


136  CORRESPONDENCE.  [Chaf.  VIII. 

signed  to  his  will;  to  have  no  plan,  connexion,  prospect,  or 
interest,  but  under  his  direction,  and  in  an  immediate  and 
clear  subserviency  to  his  interest.  Happy  the  man  who  is 
brought  to  this  point!  How  honorable,  how  safe  his  state! 
He  is  engaged  in  a  league  offensive  and  defensive  with  the 
J^ord  of  heaven  and  earth:  and,  in  the  midst  of  changes  and 
exercises  which  can  but  affect  the  surface,  if  I  may  so  speak, 
he  has  an  abiding  peace  in  the  bottom  of  his  soul,  well 
knowing  whose  he  is,  and  whom  he  serves. 

"Indeed,  my  friend,  I  see,  or  think  I  see,  such  interested 
views,  such  height  of  spirit,  such  obvious  blemishes,  in 
some,  who,  on  account  of  gifts  and  abihties,  are  eminent  in 
the  church  of  God,  as  are  truly  lamentable.  1  adore  the 
mercy  of  the  Lord  who  has  preserved  you  and  me,  and  a 
few  men  whom  I  love,  from  those  snares  and  temptations, 
by  which  some,  as  good  and  wise  as  ourselves,  have  been 
entangled  and  hurt.  If  I  must  blame,  I  would  do  it  with 
gentleness,  well  knowing  that  had  I  been  left  to  myself,  in 
similar  circumstances,  I  should  not  have  acted  better.  Ah! 
deceitful  sin — deceitful  world — deceitful  heart!  How  can 
we  stand  an  hour  against  such  a  combination,  unless  upheld 
by  the  arm  that  upholds  the  heaven  and  the  earth.  .  .  . 

"I  can  say  nothing  about  coming  to  Olney,  but  that  I  am 
willing  if  the  Lord  please.  If  I  do,  it  must  be  soon  after 
Whitsunday:  a  long  while  to  look  forward  to!  I  cannot 
move  without  a  supply,  of  which  I  have  no  present  pros- 
pect: but  he  can  provide  if  he  would  have  me  go.  With 
him  I  would  leave  alK  It  is  pleasant  but  not  necessary  to 
see  each  other.  Oh!  may  we  see  him,  and  rejoice  in  him 
daily;  and,  as  to  all  the  rest,  A'o^  my  will.)  but  thine  de  done. 
So  I  wish  to  say. — With  love  to  Mrs.  Scott  from  us  both,  I 
remain  your  affectionate  friend,  John  Newton." 

I  nov/  turn  to  my  father's  own  letters.  The  following, 
addressed  io  my  mother's  brother-in-law,  to  his  correspon- 
dence with  whom  we  have  before  adverted,  will  shew  his 
motives  for  undertaking  the  cure  of  Olney,  and  his  view  of 
the  service  in  which  he  was  engaging.  It  is  dated  Weston, 
February  15,  1781. 

"I  have  undertaken  the  curacy  of  Olney  along  with  Wes- 
ton, leaving  Ravenstone;  which  will  be  attended  with  my 
removal  to  Olney  at  Ladyday,  and  a  considerable  conse- 
quent expense  in  furniture,  &c.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  will  I  apprehend  be  some  increase  of  income,  and  more 


1779—1785.]  CORRESPONDENCE.  137 

of  a  settlement  than  my  present  situation;  as  I  have  good 
reason  to  beUeve  I  shall  be  presented  to  the  living,  when 
the  incumbent  dies.  At  present  the  curacy,  taking  one 
thing  with  another,  is  about  equal  to  Ravenstone,  or  rather 
preferable;  and  there  have  been  for  many  years  subscrip- 
tions for  a  lecture,  which  have  amounted  to  40/.  or  better, 
but  may  probably  be  20/.  or  30/.  The  living  is  but  small, 
70/.  per  annum,  and  the  house;  and  the  incumbent  is  very 
old.  1  mention  these  things  because,  as  relations,  you  will 
probably  wish  to  hear  of  them:  otherwise,  they  are  to  me 
very  unimportant.  I  have  this  day  tinished  my  thirty-fourth 
year.  I  lived  without  God  in  the  world  for  nearly  twenty- 
eight:  then  he  did  not  starve  me,  nay,  he  i)rovided  well  for 
me,  though  1  knew  him  not,  asked  him  not,  thanked  him 
not.  1  have  now  in  some  measure  trusted,  and  poorly 
served  him  the  other  six  years,  or  nearly,  and  he  has  not 
failed  me.  Sometimes  he  has  proved  my  faith,  and  made 
me  ready  to  question  whether  he  would  provide  for  me  or 
not,  at  least  in  that  plentiful  manner  1  had  been  accustomed 
to;  but  he  has  always  in  the  end  made  me  ashamed  of  my 
suspicions. — Mercy  and  goodness  have  followed  me  all  the 
days  of  my  life^  and  the  same  Jehovah  is  still  my  Shepherd; 
therefore  I  shall  not  want.  1  do  not  therefore  embrace  this 
offer,  as  if  I  were  either  dissatisfied,  or  distrustful,  or  avari- 
cious. I  trust  the  Lord  knows  these  are  not  my  motives. 
The  advance  of  income,  (if  it  beany,)  is  not  at  all  a  leading 
object  with  me;  but,  the  situation  being  offered,  I  verily 
judged  it,  upon  the  most  deliberate  consideration,  I  trust  in 
the  spirit  of  prayer,  my  bounden  duty  to  accept  it;  because 
the  vicar  of  llavenstone's  life  is  very  precarious,  and  his 
death  would  probably  have  been  followed  with  my  removal 
to  a  greater  distance  from  the  place  of  my  present  abode, 
and  from  the  people  to  whom  I  have  been  made  useful, 
iiad  whom  I  dearly  love;  who  will  now  be  near,  within  reach 
of  me,  and  I  of  them:  because  1  hope  the  Lord  hath  some 
good  work  to  do  by  ma  at  Olney:  and  because  many  good 
people  there  have  been  this  last  year  as  sheep  not  having  a 
shepherd.  At  the  same  time  I  am  aware  that  I  am  about  to 
be  plunged  into  the  midst  of  difficulties  and  trials,  and  shall 
have  to  regret  the  loss  of  many  of  my  present  comforts;  that 
I  shall  need  vastly  more  wisdom,, patience,  and  meekness, 
than  I  have  hitherto  attained  to.  But  he  who  sends  me 
will  support  me,  supply  ms,  stand  by  me,  and  carry  me 
through.  And  indeed!  am  not  to  expect  that  the  Lord  Je- 
*12 


138 .  CORRESPONDENCE.  [Chap.  VIII. 

sus  has  enlisted  me  into  his  army,  and  commissioned  me  as 
an  officer,  and  given  me  a  complete  suit  of  armor,  and  di- 
rections, and  encouragement  for  the  fight,  and  assurance  of 
victory,  for  nothing.  He  bids  me  endure  hardships^  fight 
the  good  fight,  carry  war  into  Satan's  dominion,  down  with 
his  strong  holds,  spoil  his  goods;  and  resistance,  and  conflict, 
and  wrestlings,  I  must  expect.  Now  for  the  fight,  by  and 
by  the  victory,  and  then  the  conqueror's  rest.  He  has,  I 
trust,  also  enlisted  you:  be  not  discouraged  at  the  number 
and  rage  of  your  enemies.  Your  captain  leads  you  forth 
'to  conquest  and  a  crown.'  He  will  cover  your  head  in  the 
day  of  battle,  heal  all  your  wounds,  renew  j^our  strength,  and 
at  last  crown  you  more  than  conqueror. 

"indeed  Olney  is,  1  apprehend,  as  difficult  a  charge  for  a 
minister  as  can  well  be  imagined,  and  I  greatly  feel  my  in- 
sufficiency; but  if  [  look  to  Jesus,  I  cannot  be  discouraged: 
his  strength  shall  be  perfected  in  my  weakness,  and  his  wisdom 
in  my  foolishness:  I  must,  however,  enjoin  you  to  pray  for 
me:  I  have  prayed  for  you  long  and  often,  and  I  trust  the 
Lord  has  heard,  and  taught  you  to  pray;  now  pay  me  in  kind. 
I  need  this  return,  and  shall  much  value  it. 

"Mr. ,  (the  last  minister  of  Olney,)  having  set  Olney 

in  a  flame  by  his  contentious  behavior,  is  to  succeed  me  at 
Ravenston^e,  which  is  a  sensible  affliction  to  me;  but  the 
Lord  knows  better  than  I  do,  and  there  I  leave  it.  It  will 
probably  prevent  my  future  usefulness  at  Ravenstone.  This 
Satan  doubtless  intends,  but  I  hope  the  Lord  will  turn  his 
counsel  into  foolishness.'''' 

To  the  same  person  he  wrote  July  4th,  following:  "You 
desire  me  to  inform  you  how  1  like  Olney:  but  it  is  impos- 
sible. 1  trust  the  Lord  is  with  me,  and  I  love  his  presence, 
and  the  light  of  his  countenance,  which  entirely  recon- 
ciles me  to  the  numerous  disagreeables  that  otherwise  I 
do  and  must  expect  to  encounter.  I  am  satisfied  that  th6 
Lord  will  not  leave  me  to  be  needlessly  discouraged;  and,  fur- 
ther, that  I  shall  learn  many  a  profitable  lesson  from  the 
things  I  meet  with:  and,  if  I  acquire  humility,  meekness, 
patience,  prudence,  experience  in  this  school,  though  it  be 
not  pleasing  to  the  flesh,  the  spirit  will  rejoice. — As  to 
the  people  they  are  pretty  much  as  I  expected:  rather 
more  divided.  But  I  caiinot  tell  how  things  will  issue.  I 
have  taken  a  farm,  which  is  a  good  deal  out  of  heart;  I  am 
breaking  up  the  fallow  ground,  ploughing,  and  harrowing, 
and  sowing:  but  what  ;Bort  of  a  crop  I  shall  have,  harvest- 


1779—1785.]  CORRESPONDENCE.  139 

time  will  best  shew.  Only  I  am  sure  I  shall  reap  in  due  sea- 
son if  1  faint  not.     I  do  not,  however,  repent  coming." 

Indications  have  already  appeared  of  the  spiritual  happi- 
ness which  my  father  enjoyed  after  the  settlement  of  his 
religious  views.  Several  passages  also  in  the  Force  of 
Truth,  and  in  the  Discourse  on  Repentance,  demonstrate 
the  same  state  of  mind.  This  continued  for  some  years, 
but  was  afterwards  succeeded,as  by  scenes  of  greater  effort, 
so  also  by  more  internal  conflict.  He  always  looked  back 
upon  the  seven  years  which  followed  his  first  cordial  re- 
ception of  Scriptural  truth,  as  those  of  greatest  personal 
enjoyment.  The  following  passages  of  letters  to  his  youn- 
ger sister,  Mrs.  Ford:  may  be  added  to  those  which  contain 
intimations  of  this  kind;  and  they,  at  the  same  time,  con- 
tinue the  history  of  his  intercourse  with  that  branch  of  his 
family. 

"January  29,  1782.  To  see  you  as  happy  in  that  peace 
ef  God^  which  passeth  understandings  and  which,  through 
Jesus  Christ,  keepeth  the  heart  and  mind,  as  I  feel  myself,  is 
my  ardent  wish,  and  frequent,  fervent  prayer.  ...  On  Mon- 
days, Wednesdays,  and  Saturdays,  I  am  at  your  service;  but 
I  preach  on  the  other  evenings  ....  You  may  hkewise  de- 
pend upon  it,  that  I  will  not  make  your  continuance  at 
OJney  disagreeable  by  religious  disputes:  for  the  Lord  has 
almost  spoiled  me  for  a  disputant.  Waiting  and  praying 
are  the  weapons  of  my  warfare,  which  I  trust  will  in  due 
time  prove  mighty^  through  God,  for  the  pulling  down  of  all 
strong  holds,  which  hinder  Christ's  entering  iiito^  and  dwell- 
ing in  your  heart  by  faith,  and  bringing  every  thought  into 
cdptivity  lo  obedience  to  himself . . .  .  One  expression  in  your 
letter  encourages  me  to  hope  that  we  shall,  before  many 
more  years  have  elapsed,  be  Hke-minded;  namely,  where 
you  seem  to  entertain  a  doubt  of  your  being  right,  and  do 
offer  a  prayer  to  God  to  set  you  right.  Thus  I  began:  in 
this  I  persevered,  and  do  persevere,  and  have  no  more 
doubt,  that  it  is  God  who  taught  me  what  I  now  believe  and 
preach,  as  to  the  great  outlines,  than  I  have  that  God  is 
faithful  and  hears  prayer  ....  You  wonder  at  my  condemn- 
ing you  unheard,  and  think  I  have  a  worse  opinion  of  you 
than  you  deserve.  I  will  promise  you  I  have  not  so  bad  an 
opinion  of  you  as  I  have  of  myself  But  the  Bible  condemns 
us  all,  moral  and  immoral,  great  sinners  and  little  sinners, 
(if  there  be  such  a  thing;)  that  every  mouth  may  be  stopped. 
Rom.  iii,  19,  and  the  following.     Let  me  beg  of  you  to  read 


!4t)  CORRESPONDENCE.         [Chap.  VIII. 

without  a  comment,  to  meditate  upon,  and  pray  over  this 
ecripture,  espepially  that  humbling  text.  For  there  is  no 
difference^  for  all  have  sinned  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of 
God.  No  difference:  all  are  guilty,  all  condemned  malefac- 
tors, all  must  be  saved  in  a  v^^ay  of  grace,  by  faith,  through 
Christ. 

''June  25,  1782.  Two  things  have  concurred  together 
to  render  it  not  easy  for  me  to  write,  namely,  many  engage- 
ments and  much  indisposition  ....  If  the  Lord  be  pleased 
to  give  us,  (for  he  is  the  alone  giver,)  in  the  way  of  honest  i 
industry  in  some  lawful  calling,  the  necessaries  and  ordinary 
conveniencies  of  li^e,  just  above  the  pinchings  of  poverty, 
and  beneath  the  numberless  temptations  of  affluence,  we 
are  then  in  the  most  favorable  station  for  real  happiness,  so 
far  as  attainable  in  this  world,  that  we  can  be;  and  we  want 
nothing  more  but  a  contented  mind:  such  a  contented  mind 
as  springs  from  a  consciousness,  that  of  all  the  numberless 
blessings  we  enjoy  we  deserve  not  one,  having  forfeited  all, 
and  our  souls  too  by  sin;  from  a  consideration  of  the  pover- 
erty,  and  afflictions  of  the  Son  of  God,  endured  voluntarily 
for  us;  from  faifh  in  him,  a  scriptural  hope  that  our  sins  are 
pardoned,  and  that  we  are  in  a  state  of  acceptance  with 
God;  from  peace  of  conscience,  peace  with  God,  submission 
to  him,  reliance  on  him,  and  realizing  views  of  his  unerring 
wisdom,  almighty  power,  and  faithfulness,  engaged  through 
Jesus,  to  make  all  zcork  for  our  good;  together  with  the 
sweets  of  retired  communion  with  him  in  the  rarely  fre- 
quented walks  of  fervent  prayer  and  meditation.  This  is 
all  that  is  wanted  to  make  us  satisfied,  cheerful,  and  comfort- 
able; rejoicing  in  hope  of  complete  happiness  in  a  better 
world.  All  beside,  that  our  restless  minds  (restless  unless 
and  until  they  find  rest  in  God,)  can  crave,  could  add  noth- 
ing lo  us  ....  Riches,  pleasv^res,  diversions,  the  pomp  and 
pride  of  life,  are  not  only  empty  but  ruinous — vanity  and 
vexation.  The  Lord  grant  that  we  may  esteem  them  such, 
and  despise  them.  True  happiness  consists  in  being  like 
God,  loving  him,  and  being  loved  of  him.  All  the  rest  is 
but  a  poor  attempt  of  miserable  man  to  forget  his  misery, 
and  to  find  a  happiness  independent  of  the  fountain  of  happi- 
ness: as  if  men,  being  deprived  of  the  light  and  heat  of  the 
sun,  should  attempt  to  supply  the^rreparable  loss  by  fires 
and  tapers  ....  But  believe  me,  dear  sister,  it  is  no  small 
matter  to  be  such  a  Christian:  to  deny  ourselves,  renounce 
the  world,  crucify  the  flesh,  and  resist  the  devil,  though 
pleasant  to  him  that  has  once  got  into  the  scriptural  method, 


1779—1785.]         CORRESPONDENCE.  14.1 

is  too  great  a  work  for  the  most  even  of  professors:  most 
put  up  with  either  a  round  of  devotions,  in  a  formal  way,  or 
a  set  of  notions.  But,  though  there  is  much  diligence  and 
self-denial  necessary,  and  the  friendship  of  the  world,  and 
conformity  to  it,  must  be  renounced;  yet  the  present  com- 
forts of  religion  (I  speak  from  sweet  experience,)  amply 
and  richly  repay  it.  May  you  and  yours  experience  the 
same!" 

In  another  letter,  about  a  year  afterwards,  addressed  to 
a  young  woman  remotely  connected  with  him  by  marriage, 
who  had  spent  some  time  in  his  family  at  Weston,  and  who 
■will  hereafter  be  repeatedly  noticed  as  his  correspon- 
dent in  Northumberland,  he  gives  counsel  and  encourage- 
ment on  the  subject  to  which  the  preceding  letter  leads  our 
thoughts, — the  treatment  of  relations  not  yet  brought  to 
that  religious  state  of  mind  which  we  could  wish.  At  the 
same  time  we  may  trace  in  it  the  germ  of  that  spirit  of  in- 
tercessory prayer,  which  so  much  distinguished  the  writer 
to  the  end  of  his  days. 

"We  seldom,  or  never,  have  to  repent  of  doing  any  thing 
which  we  have  well  prayed  over,  and  then  acted  according 
to  the  best  of  our  judgment. — I  have  been  but  little  at  home, 
and  then  have  been  very  poorly  in  health  since  I  received 
yours:  so  that  you  must  excuse  my  delay  in  writing.  I  do 
not  quite  forget  you  and  your  concerns  when  at  the  throne 
of  grace,  though  I  cannot  say  with  Paul,  always  in  every 
prayer.  This  is  one  among  many  things  in  this  blessed 
apostle  which  I  admire,  that,  amidst  his  manifold  and  im- 
portant employments,  he  seems  scarcely  ever  to  have  for- 
gotten any  of  his  churches  or  friends,  but  to  have  been  con- 
stant, fervent,  and  particular  in  his  prayers  for  them  all  and 
every  one.  The  Lord  help  me  to  imitate  him!— I  can  sym- 
pathize with  you  in  your  sorrow,  but  can  give  you  no  other 
advice  or  comfort,  than  what  you  already  know. — The 
Lord  is  sovereign  and  owes  us  nothing:  and  therefore  we 
have  abundant  cause  for  thankfulness  for  what  he  hath,  in 
a  distinguishing  manner,  done  for  us,  but  none  to  complain  of 
what  he  denies  us.  Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God,  is  a 
lesson  which  all  his  people  must  learn  experimentally. 
Wait  the  Lord's  time,  is  another  of  the  same  sort.  To  love 
Christ  even  more  than  father  and  mother,  and  to  desire  his 
glory  even  more  than  their  welfare,  (which  yet  it  is  a  duty 
to  desire  next  of  all,)  is  another  very  hard  lesson  which  a 
true  Christian  must  learn,    liut,  when  you  have  made  pro- 


f 
142  CORRESPONDENCE.         [Chap.  VIII. 

ficiency  a  little  in  these  lessons,  you  do  not  know  what  He 
who  is  rich  in  mercy,  in  answer  to  patient,  persevering,  be- 
lieving-, submissive  prayers,  may  do  for  you.  At  all  events 
you  know  he  does  hear  prayer,  and  I  dare  venture  to  say, 
that  your  most  earnest  importunate  prayers  for  your  parents 
are  as  sweet  music  in  his  ears;  and  that  he  delights  to  hear 
them,  as  offered  through  the  intercession  of  Jesus.  I  lament 
much  that  there  is  so  little  of  this  spirit  amongst  professors  of 
religion.  If  ever  it  become  general,  religion  will  spread  in 
famiUes  and  neighborhoods,  as  fire  in  a  sheaf.  Where  two 
agree  on  earth  as  touching   any  thing    that  they  shall  ask,  it 

shall  be  done  for  them.     Try  the  experiment Though 

it  is  very  proper  to  drop  a  word  now  and  then,  yet  I  would 
advise  you  to  be  sparing  in  it,  as  it  will  be  misconstrued  into 
assuming  and  preaching.  Meekness,  attention,  affection, 
«nd  every  expression  of  honor  and  respect;  a  mixture  of 
seriousness  and  cheerfuhiess;  (which  be  sure  you  aim  at — 
nothing  prejudices  more  than  an  appearance  of  melancholy;) 
now  and  then  a  pertinent  text  of  scripture;  a  hint  dropped, 
and  opportunities  watched,  when  people  are  more  willing 
to  hear  than  at  other  times:  this,  accompanied  with  many 
prayers,  is  the  line  I  would  mark  out.  But  the  Lord  giveth 
zvisdom;  and  I  doubt  not  he  has  been  beforehand  with  me. 
1  must  conclude  with  wishing  you  success  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord.'' 

The  following  letters  take  a  wider  range.  Besides  ex- 
plaining more  fully  the  nature  of  his  situation  at  Olney, 
they  develope  the  views  which  he  had  now  begun  to 
take  of  the  state  of  religious  profession  at  that  time,  among 
many  persons  of  the  class  frequently  denominated  evangel- 
ical; which  views  influenced  the  whole  of  his  future  min- 
istry. Incidentally  also  they  disclose  the  sort  of  sentiments 
which  he  had  formed,  and  to  which  for  substance  he 
ever  adhered,  on  church-government,  and  some  other  sub- 
jects. 

The  first  (dated  April  29,    1783,)  is  to   the  Rev.  Mr- 
Mayor,  who  has  been  already  introduced  to  the  reader. 

"My  very  dear  friend,  ......  I  would  desire  to  bless 

God  for,  and  to  rejoice  in  the  grace  given  unto  you,  and 
that  he  hath  given  you  those  peculiar  views  of  the  great 
things  of  the  gospel,  which  alone  can  effectually  prevent 
the  abuse  of  them,  and  accomplish  that  glorious  purpose 
for  which  they  are  designed.  The  moral  excellency  and 
beauty  of  divine  things — the  glory  and  loveliness  of  the  di- 


1779—1785.]         CORRESPONDENCE.  143 

vine  nature,  law,  and  gospel — spiritually  discerned,  are  the 
grand  preservative  against  every  error  and  every  abuse  in 
religion.  This  God  hath  given  you,  and  given  you  to  un- 
derstand the  use  that  is  to  be  made  of  it,  not  only  for  the 
sanctifying  and  comforting  of  your  own  soul,  but  likewise 
for  the  work  of  the  ministry.  For  this  I  bless  God;  and 
especially  because  in  this  day  there  is  great  need  of  it,  and 
few  I  fear  have  a  proper  sense  of  it.  Sure  1  am  that  evan- 
gelical religion  is  in  many  places  wofully  verging  to  anti- 
nomianism, — one  of  the  vilest  heresies  that  ever  Satan  in- 
vented; our  natural  pride  and  carnality  being  both  humor- 
ed and  fed  by  it,  under  the  plausible  pretence  of  exalting 
free  grace,  and  debasing  human  nature.  But  whilst  anti- 
nomians  talk  of  the  grace  of^  the  gospel,  they  overturn  all 
i-evealed  religion." — He  here  proceeds  to  argue  that  there 
can  be  no  more  grace  in  the  gospel  than  there  is  equity  in 
the  law,  and  justice  in  its  penalty;  that  the  whole  scheme, 
which  derogates  from  the  honor  of  the  divine  law,  cherish- 
es the  propensity  of  our  corrupt  nature  to  excuse  self,  ex- 
tenuate sin,  and  cast  blame  upon  God;  and  that  "the  con- 
version  of  the  antinomian,  notwithstanding  all  his  good  feel- 
ings, only  leaves  him  tenfold  more  a  hater  of  the  God  of  the 
Bible,  than  he  was  before.  This,  my  friend,"  he  proceeds, 
"I  am  sure  of,  and  see  more  and  more  clearly  every  day; 
and  the  enmity  of  loose  professors  against  searching,  prac- 
tical preaching,  is  full  proof  of  it:  and  by  God's  grace  I  pur- 
pose to  spend  my  whole  life  in  bearing  testimony  against  it; 
and  shall  rejoice  in  having  you  for  a  helper.  In  this  work 
we  must  expect  no  quarter,  either  from  the  world,  or  some 
kind  of  professors.  But  we  need  wisdom  equally  with 
zeal  and  boldness.  Let  us  observe  that  some  excellent  men, 
far  before  us  in  every  other  respect,  have  been  uninten- 
tionally betrayed  into  some  mistakes  of  this  kind;  that 
therefore  a  religion  bordering  on  antinomianism  has  the 
countenance  of  respectable  names:  strong  prejudices  are  in 
most  places  in  favor  of  it:  many  hypocrites,  I  doubt  not^ 
there  are  amongst  those  who  are  for  it:  b«t  they  are  not  all 
hypocrites.  We  are  poor  inconsistent  creatures,  and  few 
see  the  consequences  of  their  own  sentiments.  You  and  I 
are  young,  obscure,  little,  nothing  in  comparison  of  those  wha 
have  lent  their  names  to  the  opposite  side.  We  must  not 
I  therefore  call  them  masters;  nor  must  we  conceal  our  sen- 
timents, or  shun  to  declare  the  whole  counsel  of  God.  The 
wisdom  that  is  from  above  is  first  pure^  then  peaceable.     We 


1 44  CORRESPONDENCE.  [Chap.  VIII . 

have  therefore  need  of  this  wisdom:  let  us  ask  it  of  God. 
I  would  recommend   it  to  j'ou,    and  to  myself,  whilst  we 
guard  against  one  extreme,  to  be  careful  lest  we  be  pushed 
by  Satan  into  the  other.     If  we  are  faithful,  we  shall   be 
called   self-willed,  self-important,  obstinate.     The  clamor 
we  may  contemn:  but  let  us  watch  and  pray  against  the 
thing  itself.     They  will  say,  we  speak  and  act  in  our  own 
spirit:  let  us  beg  of  God  continually  that  they  may  have  no 
just  reason  to  say  so.    They  will  say  we  are  legal:  but  let  us, 
by  preaching  Christ,  and  dwelling  clearly  and  fully   on  the 
glorious  scheme  of  free  redemption,  and  its  peculiar  doc- 
trines, improving  them  to  practical  purposes,  confute  them. 
They  will  say  that  our  'scrupulosity'  in  practice  springs 
from   self-righteousness,  and   a  pharisaical  spirit.     Let  us 
then  carefully  avoid  extremes;  laying  too  much  stress  on 
little  things;  and  censoriousness:  condemning  false  practices 
mainlj'  by  our  conduct.     I  am  persuaded   God  intends  to 
do  something  for  his  glory  by  you,  by  and  by. — Satan  hath 
tried  to  preclude  your  usefulness,  by  taking  advantage   of 
your  zeal  and  honesty  to   hurry  you  into  extremes  and  in- 
discretions.    The  minds  of  many  are  prejudiced.     It  is  your 
trial,  and  I  hope  you  will  be  the  better  for  it:  but  watch 
and  pray  for  the  time  to  come.     For  my  part,  I  make  no 
scruple  of  declaring  my  sentiments  to  all  I  am  acquainted 
with  concerning  you,  and  I  doubt  not  but  matters   will  be 
otherwise,  if  you  do  but  observe  such  short  rules  as  these. 
First:  Do  nothing  in  haste.     Pray,  pray,  pray,  before  you 
determine.     Secondly:  Avoid  all   extremes.     Thirdly:  Be 
not  pecif/iar  in  any  thing  which  is  not  a  case  of  conscience. 
Fourthly:  Leave  outward  reformation  mainly  to  the  magis- 
trate.    Your  weapons  are  not  carnal.     Fifthly:  Remember 
that  Satan's  kingdom  is  too  strong  for  an  arm  of  flesh:  keep 
your  dependence  on  the  Almighty.     Sixthly:  Study  to  im- 
prove not  only  in  grace  and  knowledge,  but  in  gifts:  delib- 
erate, audible,  methodical  utterance.     Preach  as  you  read 
prayers.     Lastly:  Though  no  part   of  truth  is  to  be  kept 
back,  yet,  some  being  of  greater  importance,  and  other  of 
less,  dwell  mainly  on  the  greater,  and  only  mention  the 
other  occasionally. — Verbum  sapienii. — I  take  the  liberty  of 

a  friend;  use    the  same   with  me Write  sooner  and 

longer  than  before;  and,  if  you  have  any  remaining  scruples 
about  the  church,  do  open  your  mind  to  me.     Satan  weuld, 

I  think,  wish  you  to  leave  your  station 

Your  friend  and  brother,  T.  Scott.'* 


17:9—1785.1        aORRESPONDENCE.  145 

As  this  letter  presents  only  a  specimen  of  those  com- 
plaints, which  we  shall  see   frequently   repeated  in  the 
course   of  the   present  work,  of  a  prevailing-  tendency  to 
antinomian  abuse  of  the  gospel,  among  numbers  who  held 
many  of  the   doctrines  for  which  my  father  contended,  it 
may  be  expedient  here  to  offer  a  remark  or  two  upon  that 
subject. — Be  it  then  ever  remembered,  that,   when   my 
father  complained  of  antinomianism  existing  among  persons 
of  this  description,  he  by  no  means  intended  that  it  was 
found  only,  or  even  principally  among  them.     On  this  sub- 
ject he  thus  speaks  in  th«  preface  to  his  Sermon  on  the 
doctrines  of  Election  and  Final  Perseverance:    "On  the 
other  hand,  the  Arminian  is  not  at  all  secured  from  antino- 
mianism, nor  the   Calvinist  exposed  to  it,  by  their  several 
tenets:  seeing  both  of  them  are  antinomian  just  as  far  as 
they  are   unsanctiiied,  and  no  further;  because  the   carnal 
mind  is  enmity  against  God^  for  it  is  not  subject  to  the  law 
of  God,,  neither  indeed  can  it  be.     Perhaps  speculating  anti- 
nomians  abound  most  among  professed  Calvinists:    but  anti- 
nomians,  whose  sentiments  influence  their  practice,  are  innu- 
merable among  Arminians.     Does  the  reader  doubt  this? 
Let  him  ask  any  of  those  multitudes  who  trample  on  God's 
commandments,  what  they  think  of  predestination  and  eleC" 
tion;  and  he  will  speedily  be  convinced  that  it  is  undeniably 
true:  for  all  these,  in  various  ways,  take  occasion  from  the 
mercy  of  God  to  encourage  themselves  in  impenitent  wick- 
edness.    It  would  therefore  be  unspeakably  better  for  all 
parties  to  examine  these  subjects  with  impartiality,  meek- 
ness, and  brotherly  love,  than  reciprocally  to  censure,  des- 
pise, and  condemn  one  another." — In  short,  my  father's 
complaint  was  not  that  persons  embracing  these  doctrines 
were  worse  than  others,  but  that  many  of  them  were  found 
by  no  means  so  much  better  than  others,  as  he  was  convinced 
their  principles  ought  to  have  made  them. — The  following 
extract  of  a  letter  written  at  a  subsequent  period,  may  also 
explain  what  were  the  nature  and  the  source  of  much  of 
that  leaning  to    antinoinianism  of  which  he  complained, 
"Many    preachers   are   not    directly   antinonfiian    in  doc- 
trine, who  yet  dwell  so  fully  and  constantl}'^  on  doctrinal 
points,  and  give  the  several  parts  of  the  Christian  temper 
and  conduct,  in  all  its  branches  and  ramifications,  so  little 
prominency,  that,  after  all,  their  hearers  are  never  taught 
the  purliculars  of  their  duty,  in  the  several  relations  to  God 
aoil.iaeia,  ia  the  improvement  of  their  taleats,  the  redempi- 
13 


146  CORRESPONDENCE.  [Chap.  VIH. 

tion  of  their  time,  &c.  They  are  told,  in  a  few  words,  that 
they  should  be  holy  and  do  good  works,  but  they  are  left 
ignorant  in  what  genuine  holiness  and  good  works  consist; 
and  often  live  in  sin,  or  neglect  of  duty,  for  want  of  know- 
ing this  and  the  other  thing  to  be  sin  or  duty." 

The  two  next  letters  are  to  the  Rev.  G.  More,  a  Scotch 
minister,  then  situate  in  the  north  of  England.  This  gen- 
tleman appears  to  have  written  to  him  in  consequence  of 
reading  the  Force  of  Truth. 

''April  14,  1784.  I  must  frankly  observe  that  I  am  not 
much  attached  to  externals,  being  decidedly  of  opinion, 
that,  had  the  Lord  Jesus  intended  all  his  people  to  be  of 
the  same  sentiments  about  church  government,  he  would 
have  explicitly  declared  it,  as  under  the  Jewish  dispensa- 
tion, and  have  rendered  it  impossible  for  godly,  reflecting, 
and  judicious  persons  to  have  differed  much  about  these 
things:  even  as  it  is  impossible  for  such  persons  much  to 
differ  about  the  method  of  a  sinner's  justification,  or  the 
nature  and  need  of  regeneration.  Every  man  ought  to  be 
satisfied  in  his  own  mind  about  the  lawfulness  of  communi- 
cating as  a  Christian,  or  officiating  as  a  minister,  in  that 
society  he  belongs  to,  and  leave  others  to  judge  for  them- 
selves; candidly  supposing  that  men  who  are  conscientious 
in  other  things  are  so  in  this:  and,  though  they  see  not  as 
we  see,  yet  possibly  their  eyes  may  be  as  good  as  ours. 
In  my  own  judgment,  after  J  hope  much  serious  and  impar- 
tial consideration,  I  am  a  moderate  Episcopalian,  and  a 
Poedo-Baptist;  but  am  entirely  willing  my  brethren  should 
be,  some  Presbyterians,  and  some  Independents,  and  not 
extremely  unwilling  that  some  should  be  Baptists;  rejoicing 
that  Christ  is  preached,  and  the  essentials  of  true  re- 
ligion upheld  amongst  persons  of  different  sentiments,  and 
only  grieved  that  each  one  will  be  what  he  is  jure  divino^ 
and  judge  and  condemn  others.  I  would  only  beseech  all 
to  leave  biting  and  devouring  one  another^  and  to  unite  to- 
gether in  striving,  as  so  many  regiments  in  one  army,  against 
the  common  enemy.  My  avowal  of  my  sentiments  on  this 
subject  will  help  you  to  know  your  man,  and  what  you  are 
to  expect. — My  post  is  very  different  from  yours.  There 
are  above  two  thousand  inhabitants  in  this  town,  almost  all 
Calvinists,  even  the  most  debauched  of  them;  the  gospel 
having  been  preached  among  them  for  a  number  of  years 
by  a  variety  of  preachers,  statedly  and  occasionally,  sound 
and  unsound,  in  church  and  meeting.     The  inhabitunts  are 


1779—1783.]         CORRESPONDENCE.  147 

feecome  like  David,  wiser  than  their  teachers;  that  is,  they 
think  themselves  so,  and,  in  an  awful  manner,  have  learned 
to  abuse  gospel-notions,  to  stupify  their  consciences,  vindi- 
cate their  sloth  and  wickedness,  and  shield  off  conviction. 
There  is  an  Independent  meeting  in  the  town,  the  minister 
of  which  is  newly  come  amongst  us,  and  for  this  and  other 
reasons  is  very  popular.  He  is,  I  doubt  not,  a  godly  man; 
but  his  preaching  does  not  appear  to  me  calculated  to  rouse 
a  stupid  audience  out  of  their  lethargy.  There  is  also  a 
Baptist  meeting,  the  ministers  of  which  heretofore,  by  dry 
supralapsarian  discourses,  accompanied  by  little  alarming, 
inviting,  searching,  or  practical  matter,  have  done  much  to 
bring  things  to  this  pass.  If  you  are  acquainted  with  the 
disputes  about  the  modern  question^  you  will  need  nothing 
more  to  be  said  on  thatsj'^stem  oi' passivity  introduced  by  the 
strenuous  deniers  of  its  being  every  man's  duty  to  believe. 
If  you  have  not  met  with  any  thing  on  this  subject,  on  an- 
other occasion  I  will  write  a  little  more  upon  it.  But  the 
present  minister  is  a  solid,  judicious,  and  godly  man,  though 
not  an  awakening  preacher. ...  As  for  myself,  I  am  very 
unpopular  in  this  town,  and  preach  in  general  to  very  small 
congregations.  Before  I  came  hither  I  had  two  curacies  in 
the  neighborhood,  one  of  which  I  retain  with  Olney.  There 
I  have  a  people  to  whom  the  Lord  has  made  me  the  instru- 
ment of  good.  They  love  me,  and  are  a  comfort  to  me. 
They  are  not  very  numerous,  but  so  many  as  to  prevent  my 
complaining  that  I  have  quite  labored  in  vain;  and  the  Lord 
adds  to  their  number  one  and  another  from  time  to  time. 
O  that  he  would  multiply  them  a  hundred,  or  a  thousand 
fold! — I  have  a  few  even  at  Olney  who  cleave  to  me,  and 
a  small  number  of  those  who  are  my  own:  but  I  labor  under 
great  discouragement  in  this  respect,  and  am  generally 
looked  upon  as  unsound,  legal,  Arminian.  The  truth  of 
the  matter  is,  upon  mature  deliberation  I  am  convinced  that 
the  preaching  of  the  present  day  is  not  practical  enough, 
or  sufficiently  distinguishing  between  true  and  false  experi- 
ence. I  therefore  speak  more  fully  than  most  do  of  the 
moral  character  of  the  Deity;  of  the  excellency,  glory,  and 
loveliness  of  that  character  as  described  in  the  word  of  God. 
From  this  I  deduce  the  reasonableness  and  excellency  of 
the  holy  law  of  God;  which  1  endeavor  fully  to  open  in  its 
extensive  requirements.  Thence  follows  man's  obligation 
to  love  God,  both  on  account  of  his  infinite  loveliness,  and 
of  our  natural  relations  and  obligations  to  him.     Then  i 


J 48.  CORRESPONDENCE.  [Chap.  VIIL 

demonstrate  the  evil  of  sin,  as  apostacy  from  this  lovely  and 
glorious  God  and  king,  and  transgression  of  his  perfect  law. 
Thence  I  shew  the  justice  of  God  in  the  infinite,  the  eternal 
punishment  of  sinners;  it  being  necessary  that  God  should 
mark  his  hatred  of  this  hateful  thing,  magnify  his  holy  law, 
and  shew  his  justice,  that  he  might  appear  glorious  in  the 
eyes  of  all  for  ever,  but  rebels. — Thus  I  suppose  I  dig  deep 
to  lay  the  foundation  of  the  gospel  of  free  grace:  the  neces- 
sity, nature,  and  glory,  of  the  vicarious  obedience  and  suf- 
ferings of  Immanuel;  the  sufficiency  of  his  one  sacrifice; 
and  his  ability  and  willingness  to  save  to  the  uttermost  all 
that  come.  Thence  I  shew  that  all  who  will  may  come, 
ought  to  come,  and  that  all  sin  atrociously  in  not  coming:  that, 
however,  it  is  in  no  natural  man's  heart  to  come;  because 
each  man  is  proud,  selfish,  worldly,  and  carnal:  therefore, 
all  are  without  excuse.  But  a  God  of  sovereign  grace,  hav- 
ing mercy  on  whom  he  will,  according  to  his  own  purpose 
makes  some  willing,  by  regeneration.  This  changes  the  pre- 
Tailing  bent  of  the  heart,  and  henceforth  the  man  is  not 
only  humbly  willing  to  be  justified  by  faith,  and  saved  by 
grace,  but  hates  and  repents  of  sin,  loves  God's  law,  loves 
hohness,  and  leads  a  holy  life,  sincerely,  progressively, 
though  imperfectly, — receiving  from  Christ  daily  grace  so 
to  do;  and  that  all  experience  which  has  not  this  efiect  is 
false.  Every  tree  that  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit,  c^c.  My 
paper  forbids  more. — This  is  the  outline  of  my  scheme. 
Pray  animadvert  upon  it;  for  I  would  daily  revise,  correct, 
and  improve  it." 

Some  copies  of  the  Discourse  on  Repentance,  then  just 
published,  accompanied  the  next  letter.  The  first  sentence 
relates  to  that  work. 

"May  25,  1785. — I  hope  it  will  meet  your  approbation,  as 
it  goes  fully  to  establish  that  practical  scheme  you  approve, 
and  to  oppose  the  loose  notional  religion  which  is  so  com- 
mon  

"I  am  much  at  a  loss  what  to  say  concerning  your  situation 
with  your  congregation.  I  have  seen  and  heard  of  so  many 
such  things  that  I  am  really  grieved;  and  discouraged  respect- 
ing the  success  of  the  gospel  in  the  dissenting  congregations. 
No  sooner  does  a  minister  begin  in  good  earnest  to  address  the 
consciences  of  his  hearers,  in  an  awakening,  searching,  and 
practical  manner,  and  there  is  hope  that  religion  will  revive, 
converts  be  made,  and  Christians  quickened  to  adorn  their 
profession;  than  some  antinomian  hypocrite,  or  some  injudi- 


1779—1785.]        CORRESPONDENCE.  149 

cious  dry  professor,  whose  tongue  or  purse  has  given  him 
considerable  influence,  begins  to  form  a  party  against  the 
minister;  .to  censure,  browbeat,  discourage,  oppose,  or  ex- 
pel him.  Hence  some  are  restrained;  and,  by  the  fear  of 
man,  rahich  bringeih  a  snare,  their  ardor  is  damped;  they 
feel  themselves  in  thraldom;  and,  if  they  are  not  consciously 
unfaithful,  they  are  forced  to  use  such  caution  as  cramps 
them  in  their  ministrations,  and  takes  off  much  of  their 
pungency.  Others  are  turned  out  and  reduced  to  great 
difficulty:  but  this  is  by  far  the  best,  as  it  throws  them  imme- 
diately into  the  care  of  the  Lord,  for  whose  sake  they 
suffer,  and  who  will  certainly,  in  due  time,  provide  for  all 
who  sufier  for  him. — Thus  a  stupid  congregation  choose  a 
pastor  of  their  own  cast,  when  a  peculiarly  alarming,  heart- 
searching  one  is  requisite;  and  so  matters  grow  worse  and 
worse.  Or,  if  the  pastor  they  choose  turns  out  different 
than  they  expected,  they  either  spoil  or  expel  him:  and 
thus,  in  many  places,  the  form  and  notion  are  all  that  is 
retained  of  true  religion. — But  the  work  is  the  Lord's,  and 
from  time  to  time  he  interposes,  in  some  unexpected  man- 
ner, and  beyond  hope  brings  about  a  revival.  However,  in 
this  respect,  we  (of  the  church)  have  the  best  of  it  My 
discontented  ones,  who  have  been  numerous,  have  now  left 
me  in  peaceable  possession:  many  more  hearers  fill  up,  and 
much  more  than  fill  up  their  places;  and  still  the  work  of  the 
Lord  goes  forward:  nor  hath  their  opposition  done  me  any 
real  harm,  but  I  hope  much  good.— I  shall  tell  you  a  short 
story,  by  way  of  improving  this  part  of  your  letter.  A  dis^ 
senting  minister,  (at  Cambridge,  I  think,)  preaching  very 
practically,  was  found  fault  with  by  his  people,  who  gave 
him  to  understand  that  they  must  part  with  him,  if  he  did  not 
alter  the  strain  of  his  preaching.  The  poor  man,  having  a 
family,  shrunk  for  a  time;  but  it  preyed  upon  his  health  and 
spirits;  which  his  wife  observing,  plainly  told  him  that  he 
distrusted  God  out  of  fear  of  man,  and  was  unfaithful;  and 
begged  of  him  to  preach  according  to  his  conscience^  and 
leave  the  event  to  God.  Accordingly  he  did  so,  and  was  ex- 
pelled. But  just  at  that  time  a  larger  meeting,  with  a  better 
salary,  and  atoore  lively  people,being  vacant.he  was  invited 
thither,  and  settled  among  them;  Hved  in  plenty;  and  preach- 
ed with  acceptance  and  usefulness,  till  removed  by  death. 
This  is  a  matter  of  fact.— Be  but  faithfijl  then,  my 
brother:  never  mince  the  matter:  never  fear  man: 
plead  God's  cause  witli  the  people, "and  the  people's  cause 


J  50  CORRESPONDENCE.  [Chap.  VIII. 

with  God;  and  make  it  your  great  business  to  live  what  you 
preach:  and  he  will  surely  extricate  you  out  of  all  difficul- 
ties. When  a  man^s  ways  please  the  Lord^  he  maketh  his  ene- 
mies to  be  at  peace  with  him. 

"I  am  not  of  opinion  that  the  system  of  passivity  1  men- 
tioned is  new  to  you.  The  word  may  be,  but  the  thing  it- 
self you  seem  acquainted  with,  to  your  considerable  uneas- 
iness. A  few  words  will  explain  m}'  meaning.  An  uncon- 
verted man  says,  'I  can  do  nothing:  if  God  would  give  me  a 
heart,  I  should  pray,  repent,  believe;  but  I  cannot  give  my- 
self a  heart:  if  he  will  not,  how  can  1  help  it?  1  must  wait 
his  time:  perhaps  he  sometimes  may,  and  sometime  he  cer- 
tainly will,  if  I  be  one  of  the  elect;  and  if  not  I  must  per- 
ish, and  all  I  can  do  will  signify  nothing.'  A  professor  says, 
*1  have  declined  and  back-slidden:  if  God  will  be  pleased  to 
revive  me  I  shall  be  restored:  I  must  wait:  I  hope  I  have 
known  better  times:  and  He  will  not  finally  forsake  his  peo- 
ple.' In  this  style  they  excuse  their  sloth  and  lukewarm- 
ness,  quiet  their  consciences,  stop  their  ears  to  exhortation, 
■and,  under  pretence,  of  passively  waiting  till  God  do  all, 
and  of  giving  him  all  the  glory,  fairly  exonerate  them- 
selves of  their  guilt,  and  charge  it  all  upon  God! — Indeed 
J^dam's  race  seem  determined  that  the  glory  of  the  good 
and  the  blame  of  the  bad  should  go  together.  The  Arminian 
lake's  the  blame  of  the  badto  himself,  and  thinks  it  but  rea- 
sonable that  he  should  have  the  glory  of  the  good  too. 
The  pseudo-Calvinist  gives  God  all  the  glory  of  the  good, 
but  seems  to  think  it  reasonable  that  he  should  bear  the 
blame  of  the  bad  also.  But  the  true  Christian  says,  'To 
jne,  even  to  me  alone,  belong  shame  and  confusion  of  face 
for  all  my  rebellion,  impenitence,  unbelief,  and  sloth,  all 
iny  days:  but  to  God  alone  belongs  the  glory  of  all  the  good 
"wrought  in  me,  or  done  by  me?'  " 

I  present  the  reader  with  one  more  letter,  strikingly  dis- 
playing the  fervor  of  the  writer's  spirit  in  his  Master's  ser- 
rice,  and  the  stimulating  nature  of  his  intercourse  with  his 
Tellow-servants.  It  is  to  his  friend  Mr.  Mayor,  dated 
May  14,  1785. 

''My  dear  friend.  Nothing  could  sufficiently  apologize  for 
my  omission  of  writing,  except  your  own.  Nay  indeed, 
though  that  does  keep  me  in  countenance,  yet  I  do  not 
think  we  are  either  of  us  excused.  For  a  little  time  now 
and  then  spent  in  dictating  a  letter  to  each  other  might  be 
a  meuns  of  quickening  both  of  us;  as  we  have  before  now 


1779—1785.]  CORRESPONDENCE.  151 

found  conversation  to  be.     Remember,  Iron  sharpens  irom. 
Yea,  remember  what  Horace  says, 

Ergo  fungar  vice  cotis,  acutum 

Reddere  quae  ferrum  valet,  exsors  ipsa  secandi. 

Therefore,  whether  you  can  cut  yourself  or  not,  try  to 
whet  me,  and  make  me  cut;  and  then  I  hope  I  shall  try  to 
return  the  obligati©n.  I  believe  Satan  prevails  as  much 
against  the  cause  of  Christ  by  persuading  ministers  to  sit  still, 
or  merely  to  go  on  in  the  beaten  round,  without  attempting 
any  thing  more,  as  in  any  other  way.  My  conscience  is 
never  quiet  and  joyful,  but  when  1  am  busy  in  some  minis- 
terial employment;  not  merely  in  acquiring,  but  in  com- 
municating the  knowledge  of  divine  things  by  my  tongue 
and  pen:  not  only  by  meditation  endeavoring  to  aftect 
my  own  heart,  but,  by  some  method  or  other,  endeavoring 
to  affect  others,  and  stir  them  up  to  seek,  trust,  love,  and 
serve  the  Lord.  And,  after  a  multitude  of  thoughts  about 
pride,  ambition,  &c.  influencing  me  to  be  active,  (and  they 
will  insinuate  themselves,)  I  am  persuaded  Satan  would 
have  me  while  away  my  life  in  inactivity,  under  pretences 
of  modesty,  diffidence,  and  humility;  and  he  never  is  want- 
ing to  furnish  me  with  excuses  for  delaying  or  shifting  ser- 
vices. But  I  beg  of  God  to  rouse  us  from  this  lethargy. 
Paul  says  to  Timothy,  Be  instant  in  season^  out  of  season; 
preach  the  "word;  and  seems  to  think  there  is  more  danger 
of  sloth,  than  of  too  great  activity  in  the  preacher  of  th6 
Gospel.  May  the  love  of  Christ  constrain  us,  an<l  compas- 
sion for  perishing  souls  prevail  with  us,  to  leave  no  means 
untried  to  promote  faith  and  holiness,  and  to  bear  testimony 
against  irreligion  and  false  religion:  to  awaken  the  carelessj 
to  undeceive  the  deluded,  to  allure  souls  to  Christ,  to  en- 
courage the  humble,  and  stir  up  the  believer  to  glorify 
God. — Write  soon  a  letter  longer  than  the  note  you  sent 
from  Birmingham,  and  let  me  know  how  things  go  on  in  your 
soul,  and  in  your  congregation.  Stir  up^  my  brother,  the  gift 
of  God  that  is  in  you.  Hoc  age.  Now  is  the  time  to  labor, 
and  suffer  hardship  and  reproach.  It  is  both  seed  time  and 
harvest,  and  it  is  shameful  to  sleep  in  either.  Cast  your 
bread  upon  the  waters.  Sow  in  the  morning.^  and  in  the  even- 
ings and  water  it  with  many  prayers;  and,  if  you  see  it  not 
before,  you  will  see  the  fruit.of  it  at  tlie  last  day. — Some 
Jittle  good  is  going  on  here,  and  we  are  waiting  and  praying 
for  more:  len<i  us  your  assistance  in  tiiis  particular.  .... 


162         FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO        [Chap.  IX. 

"I  should  have  been  glad  to  be  at  Birmingham,  but  could 
not: — especially  to  have  metj^ou  there. . . . 

"Desiring  to  remember  you  in  my  prayers,  and  request- 
ing your  prayers,  I  remain  your  very  affectionate  friend  and 
brother,  Thomas  Scott.'^ 


CHAPTER   IX. 

FHOM     THE     CLOSE   OF     HIS    MINISTRY     AT    OLNEY     TO   THE   COM- 
MENCEMENT   OF    HIS    COMMENTARY    ON    THE    BIBLE. 

Such  was  the  nature  of  my  father's  situation,  and  such 
the  course  he  was  pursuing,  when  events  occurred,  by 
which  he  was  very  unexpectedl}'  called  to  occupy  higher 
ground,  and  to  enter  upon  a  new  field  of  service  and  of 
trial.  But  he  himself  shall  furnish  both  the  introduc- 
tion to  this  change,  and  the  history  of  what  took  place. 
Thus  he  speaks  in  his  narrative: 

''My  outward  circumstances  were  now  in  some  measure 
improved  at  Olney;  and  my  ministry,  though  unpopular, 
was  in  many  instances  evidently  blessed:  yet  I  never  could 
make  up  my  mind  to  continue  there.  The  vicar,  the  Rev. 
Moses  Browne,  was  very  old,  and  there  was  no  doubt,  that, 
in  the  event  of  his  death,  I  should  be  presented  to  the  liv- 
ing, if  I  remained  on  the  curacy.  But  this  very  circumstance 
tended  to  render  me  dissatisfied.  I  cannot,  and  need  not 
convey  to  others  a  particular  account  of  all  things  which 
rendered  the  thoughts  of  spending  my  days  at  Olney  pain- 
ful to  me;  and  the  change  of  situation,  from  curate  to 
vicar,  would,  with  respect  to  some  of  them,  have  rather, 
aggravated  than  relieved  my  difficulties.  In  part  my  views 
might  be  erroneous;  but,  in  the  far  greater  part,  I  should 
feel  the  same  objection  still,  if  Olney  were  what  it  was 
then:  which  in  some  respects  it  certainly  is  not. 

"I  had  not,  however,  the  most  distant  prospect  of  any 
other  situation:  and  my  unpopularity  at  Olney  was  itself 
a  powerful  bar  to  my  obtaining  any.  This  may  be 
-judged  of  by  the  following  incident.  I  went  to  London, ' 
as  1  was  accustomed  to  do  once  a  year,  and  I  was  asked  to 
preach  by  a  frien<3  whom  I  had  heard  with  profit,  as  early 
as  I  so  heard  any  one,  and  for  whom  I  had  repeatedly 
preached  before.    But,  just  as  I  waa  going  into  the  pulpit? 


1785—8.]     COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.    1525 

he  said  to  me,  'Do  not  scold  my  people,  as  I  have  heard 
you  do  the  people  at  Olney?'  This  did  not  seem  well  timed. 
He,  however,  unreservedly  testified  his  approhation  of  the 
sermon,  which  I  was,  notwithstanding",  enabled  to  preach. 
But  it  shews  the  representations  which  were  spread  of  my 
ministry,  and  how  unfavorable  they  would  be  to  my  desire 
of  a  change  of  situation. 

'•Mr.  Cowper,  in  letters  to  Mr.  Newton,  which  have  since 
been  published  by  Mr.  Hayley,  and  which  pretty  generally 
found  their  way  into  the  Reviews,  brought  the  same  charge 
against  me,  in  strong  terms;  which,  coming  from  so  eminent 
and  popular  a  character,  must  have  great  weight.  But  Mr. 
C,  it  should  be  known,  never  heard  me  preach:  neither 
did  Mrs.  Unwin;  nor  their  more  respectable  friends.  Mr. 
C.'s  information  concerning  my  preaching  was  derived 
from  the  very  persons,  whose  doctrinal  and  practical  anti- 
nomianism  I  steadily  confronted. — Notwithstanding  these 
harsh  censures,  however,  God  blessed  my  ministry  at  Olney 
to  the  conversion  of  many;  and  to  effectually  repressing  the 
antinomian  spirit  which  had  gone  forth  in  the  place:  and 
thus  it  was  made  subservient  to  the  usefulness  of  my  suc- 
cessors, who  were  not  bowed  down  with  the  same  load  of 
unpopularity  that  I  was." 

In  explanation  of  what  is  here  mentioned  concerning  Mr. 
Cowpers  never  hearing  my  father  preach,  it  should  be  ve.^ 
membered,  that  one  feature  of  the  unhappy  illusion,  under 
which  that  admired  character  labored,  was  a  pcrsuasioa 
that  it  was  his  duty  to  abstain  from  religious  worship.  I  be- 
lieve I  am  correct  in  stating  the  fact  thus  generally:  certain^ 
ly,  at  least,  he  abstained  from  public  worship,  as  from  a 
blessing  prohibited  to  him:  and  I  think  I  have  a  distinct 
recollection,  that,  though  he  might  suflfer  prayer  to  be  of- 
fered in  the  room  with  him,  he  declined  joining  in  it. — Mrs. 
Unwin  never  quitted  the  object  of  her  assiduous  care. 

On  the  success  of  his  labors,  as  here  represented,  my  fa-, 
ther  thus  speaks  in  a  letter  written  in  the  year  1793.  "Th© 
effect  of  my  ministry  in  the  vicinity  of  Olney  now  appears 
much  more  evidently  than  when  I  left  that  situation:  and 
this  encourages  me  amidst  the  manifold  discouragementsof 
my  present  station." — I  beheve  there  are  comparatively 
few  ministers,  really  having  their  hearts  in  their  work,  who 
do  not  find  their  situations,  on  one  ground  or  another,  dis- 
couraging. It  is  natural  that  it  should  be  so:  for  in  this  evil 
world  the  Christiaa  minister's  employment  is  all  struggling,' 


154  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO      [Chap,  IX.. 

against  the  current.  I  gladly  therefore  present  all  these 
passages,  which  may  tend  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  my 
brethren,  and  may  animate  us  still  to  struggle  on:  and  I  con- 
sider them  ail  as  laying  a  ground  for  what  I  regard  as  one 
grand  lesson  afforded  by  my  father's  history,  namely,  that  a 
^ery  discouraging  course^  properly  sustained^  may  eventually 
prove  useful  beyond  all  expectation. — But  we  continue  the 
narrative. 

••'While  1  was  thus,  in  some  respects,  dissatisfied  with  my 
only  prospect  as  to  future  life,  on  my  return  home  from  one 
of  my  irregular  excursions,  in  September,  1785,  1  found  a 
letter  from  the  Secretary  of  the  Lock  Hospital,  written  ia 
the  name  of  several  governors,  saying,  that  it  had  been  re- 
solved to  appoint  a  person  to  the  office  of  morning  preach- 
er in  the  chapel,  and  visiting  chaplain  to  the  patients;  that, 
from  what  they  had  heard  concerning  me,  they  were  of 
opinion  that  I  should  be  a  very  suitable  person  for  the  sit- 
uation; and  that  it  was  their  request  that  I  would  come  to 
London,  and  give  them  the  opportunity  of  hearing  me. — 
Nothing  could  be  more  contrary  to  my  own  views  of  what 
my  peculiar  talent,  whatever  it  was,  qualified  me  for,  than 
this  proposal — except  as  the  poor  patients  were  concerned. 
I  therefore  wrote  a  very  plain  answer,  stating  my  views  of 
the  gospel,  and  my  determination  to  speak  my  mind  in  the 
plainest  language,  wherever  I  might  oe  called  to  preach; 
and  my  consciousaess  of  being  totally  destitute  of  those  at- 
tractions of  manner  and  elocution,  which  such  a  situation  de- 
raande<l.  My  friends,  who  afterwards  saw  the  letter,  ap- 
proved it  much,  except  the  last  clause,  in  which  1  consented 
to  come  and  preach,  if  the  governors  still  desired  it. — Ac- 
cordingly I  did  go,  and  preached  two  sermons,  in  as  plain  and 
faithful  a  manner  as  I  possibly  could;  without  attempting 
any  thing  different  from  my  homely  style  in  other  places. 
I  really  thought  that  this  specimen  would  be  sufficient;  and 
I  hoped  good  might  be  done  to  some  individuals,  by  such 
addresses  dehvered  in  that  place. 

'^When  about  to  return  home,  (after  having  my  expenses 
much  more  than  defrayed  by  individuals,  without  any  charge 
on  the  funds  of  the  charity,)  I  was  asked,  whether  I  would 
propose  myself  as  a  candidate  at  the  ensuing  election?  I  an- 
swered in  the  negative,  peremptorily.  'But  will  you  ac- 
cept of  the  situation,'  it  was  then  said,  'should  you  be  chosen, 
without  proposing  yourself?'  I  replied,  4  cannot  tell:  but 
certainly  not.  unless  that  choice  should   be  almost  unani- 


1785—8.]    COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.      155 

mous.  Having  preached  in  the  chapel,  I  shall  now  return 
home;  and,  if  I  hear  no  more  from  you,  you  will  hear  no 
more  from  me.' — In  a  few  weeks  the  election  took  place: 
no  other  person  was  proposed;  and  I  was  appointed,  with 
only  three  opposing  voices.  This  was  unexpected:  and  I 
saw  more  and  more  reason,  on  every  consideration  and  in- 
quiry, to  conclude  that,  if  I  acceded  to  this  appointment,  I 
should  be  plunged  into  difficulties  and  trials  of  a  most  dis- 
maying nature.  Yet  1  did  not  dare  to  give  a  direct  refusal, 
without  taking  further  advice  upon  the  subject.  It  might 
be  an  opening  to  more  enlarged  usefulness:  and  my  own 
personal  feelings  must  not  be  allowed  much  weight  in  such 
a  case  — I  am  conscious  that  I  wished  to  know  and  do  my 
duty:  and  I  went  again  to  London,  on  purpose  to  consult 
such  ministers  as  I  thought  most  competent  to  advise  me. 
But  most  of  those  whom  I  consulted,  assuming,  groundlessly, 
that  I  was  bent  on  coming,  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to 
waste  counsel  (as  they  supposed,)  on  one  who  would  not  take 
it.  Their  objections  were  suppressed  till  the  die  was  cast; 
and  then  I  heard  them  in  abundance.  Mr.  Robinson  of  Lei* 
cester,  indeed,  to  whom  I  wrote,  gave  me  his  sentiments 
faithfully  and  unreservedly;  stating  every  objection  strong- 
ly, yet  not  absolutely  deciding  that  they  ought  to  prevail. 

''Here  I  must  observe,  that  it  is  a  very  great  fault,  and 
instance  of  unfaithfulness,  especially  in  senior  ministers, 
when,  from  a  supposition  that  a  person  who  consults  them 
has  already  made  up  his  mind,  they  decline  giving  him 
their  plain  and  honest  opinion.  This  leads  inexperienced 
persons  to  conclude  that,  as  little  or  no  objection  is  made, 
the  proposed  measure  is  approved  by  those  who  are  con- 
sulted, and  has  their  sanction.  Yet,  as,  in  many  instances, 
respectable  men  find  that  their  advice  is  not  followed,  and 
in  few  is  received  with  implicit  submission;  they  often  con- 
sider themselves  justified  in  withholding  counsel  from  those 
who  ask  it.  Now,  not  as  one  requiring  advice,  but  as  one 
that  has  been  long  in  the  habit  of  giving  it,  I  must  say, 
that  [  think  implicit  compliance  nith  advice  given  ought 
not  to  be  expected.  If  those  who  saek  counsel  are  willing 
to  giV|p  it  attentive  consideration,  accompanied  with  prayer 
for  divine  direction,  it  is  all  that  we  are  entitled  to  look  for: 
and,  even  if  this  is  not  done,  yet,  in  giving  the  best  advice 
in  our  power,  we  deliver  our  own  souls:  whereas,  by  with- 
holding it,  we  render  ouvseives  partakers  of  other  merits  ains; 


io6  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO     [Chap.  M. 

and  much  of  the  blame  of  that  conduct,  which  perhaps  we 
severely  censure,  really  belongs  to  us. 

''For  myself  I  am  conscious,  that  I  was  fully  disposed  to 
give  to  the  most  faithful  advice,  about,  or  against,  acced- 
ing to  the  proposal  of  the  governors  of  the  Lock,  an  atten-^ 
tive  hearing,  and  careful  consideration;  and  the  Lord  know- 
eth,  that  every  step  in  the  business  was  taken,  on  my  part, 
with  many  earnest  and  anxious  prayers  for  direction:  but, 
not  finding  the  objections  urged  which  I  had  expected,  J  be- 
gan to  consider  the  offer  made  me  as  a  call  to  a  self-deny- 
ing duty;  and  was  really  afraid  that  I  should  commit  a  great 
sin  if  I  pertinaciously  refused  it.  Had  I  heard  all  those 
things  previously  to  my  consent,  which  I  heard  subsequent- 
ly, I  certainly  should  never  have  consented  at  all.  Thus  I 
should  have  escaped  much  distress:  but,  taking  the  whole 
together,  I  now  thmk  I  should  have  been  far  less  useful." 

This  subject  of  giving  advice,  and  of  what  may  reasonably 
be  expected  from  those  who  ask  it,  was  one  on  which  my 
father  frequently  spoke;  and  from  his  letters  it  appears  that 
it  was  one  on  which  he  early  formed  very  just  opinions. 
Thus  in  1773  he  writes  to  one  of  his  sisters:  "I  shall,  I  hope, 
ever  be  obliged  to  my  friends  for  advice,  but  I  do  not  prom- 
ise always  to  obey  it.  1  will  promise  to  add  the  reasons 
they  offer  to  my  own,  to  give  them  a  vote  in  the  consulta- 
tion, and  at  last  to  let  the  majority  carry  the  day,  as  far  as  I 
am  able  to  discern  it.  That  is,  so  long  as  advice  serves  to 
direct  my  own  judgment,  I  shall  be  glad  of  it:  but  will  not 
supersede  it."  Again:  "One  friend  gives  me  this  advice, 
another  that:  one  advises  me  to  act  in  this  manner,  anoth- 
er directly  contrary:  and  what  am  I  to  do?  The  answer  is 
plain:  Has  not  God  given  me  reason?  and  for  what  purpose, 
but  to  direct  tny  conduct?  But  to  what  then  tends  advice? 
To  inform  that  reason:  and,  if  two  persons  give  me  differ- 
ent counsel,  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  act  (implicitly)  according 
to  either  one  or  the  other;  but  to  weigh  the  arguments  on 
which  they  are  both  founded,  and  to  act  accordingly." — 
There  is  not  her(^  that  humble  appeal  to  superior  direction, 
which  he  would  never,  at  a  later  period,  have  omitted  to 
mention,  but  in  other  respects  the  principle  is  the  same  as 
lae  ever  afterwards  maintained. — And,  if  this  be  a  just  rule 
for  the  conduct  of  the  person  asking  counsel,  it  forms  also 
the  just  measure  for  the  expectations  of  the  persons  giving 
it.  In  this  way  likewise  he  early  appUed  it.  In  1777  he 
says  to  the  same  relative:  '^You  ask   my  pardon  for  not 


1785-^8.]    COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.      157 

taking  my  advice.  This,  I  assure  you,  was  needless:  for  I 
gave  you  my  advice  for  your  sake,  not  my  own,  and  should 
be  equally  glad  to  hear  that  you  succeeded  well  in  rejecting 
it,  as  in  following  it."  And  again  in  1789:  '4  will  by  no 
means  agree  that  you  should  implicitly  follow  any  advice, 
which  I  now,  or  at  any  other  time,  may  give.  I  would 
propose  hints  and  assign  reasons,  and  then  leave  you  to 
think  of  them,  and  pray  over  them:  which  is  the  best  way 
of  inquiring  of  the  Lord,  to  discover  his  will" 

if  to  all  this  we  add  the  observation  of  the  wise  and  ho- 
ly Halyburton,  that  "the  promise  of  God,  to  direct  oursieps^ 
does  not  extend  always  to  teaching  others  what  is  our  duty,'' 
it  may  reconcile  us  to  persevere  in  giving  the  best  advice 
we  can  to  those  who  ask  it,  without  requiring  or  expecting 
to  see  it  implicitly  followed;  which  is  what  my  father 
wished  to  inculcate. 

He  next  observes  in  his  narrative:  "A  circumstance 
which  had  considerable  weight  in  deciding  my  mind  was, 
the  hope  of  getting  one  who,  I  trusted,  would  prove  ail 
able  and  useful  laborer  ordained  to  succeed  me  at  Olney." 
This  was  the  Rev.  James  Bean,  who,  though  the  pros- 
pect of  his  immediately  succeeding  to  Olney  was  not  real- 
ized, "was  at  length  ordained,  went  thither,  and  became 
vicar  of  the  place;  was  useful  there,  and  very  acceptable 
to  my  friends  and  favorers;  but  ere  long  resigned  the  living, 
by  which  means  my  sanguine  expectations  were  painfully 
disappointed. — Still,  however,  I  did  not  give  my  answer  to 
the  governors  of  the  Lock  till  the  last  day,  and  almost  the 
last  hour,  allowed  me  for  deliberation. 

"Whatever  others  judged,  my  own  people,  who  were 
most  attached  to  me,  and  most  grieved  to  part  with  me, 
were  convinced  that  I  was  called  by  providence  to  remove, 
and  that  I  did  my  duty  in  complying  with  it.  I  am  not,  how- 
ever, myself  to  this  day  satisfied  on  the  subject.  I  cannot 
doubt  thai  my  removal  has,  especially  by  means  of  my 
writings,  (as  far  as  they  have  been,  or  are  likely  to  be,  use- 
ful,) been  overruled  for  good;  but,  when  1  consider  what  a 
situation  I  inadvertently  rushsd  into,  I  fear  I  did  not  act  pro- 
perly, and  I  willingly  accept  all  my  unspeakable  mortilica- 
tions  and  vexations  as  a  merciful  correction  of  my  conduct; 
which,  though  not,  in  one  sense,  inconsiderate,  yet  shewed 
strange  inattention  to  the  state  of  parties,  and  other  circum- 
stances, at  the  Lock;  which,  had  I  duly  adverted  to  them, 
14 


158  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO     [Chjup.  IX. 

would  have  made  me  think  it  madness  to  engage  in  such  a 
service." 

It  may  well  be  allowed  that  several  circumstances  at  that 
time  attending  the  situation  at  the  Lock,  could  they  pre- 
viously to  experience  have  been  fully  realized,  might  not 
only,  with  good  reason,  have  produced  great  hesitation  as 
to  the  acceptance  of  it,  but  even  have  appalled  a  mind  firm 
and  courageous  as  my  father's   was.     To  be  subject  to  the 
control  of  aboard  of  governors,  many  of  them  looking  only 
to  the  pecuniary  interests  ofthe  charity;  and  what  must,  if 
possible,  be  still  more  adverse  to  a  minister's  repose,  many 
of  them  thinking  themselves  both  quahfied  and  entitled  to 
dictate  as  to   his  doctrine:  this  must,   of  itself,  be  deemed 
sufficiently  objectionable.     Moreover,  the  board  was  then 
split  into  parties;  such  as  frequently  arise  when  a  concern, 
once  prosperous,  becomes  involved  in  difficulties.      Still 
further,  from  the  different  character  and  sentiments  of  the 
two  ministers,  and  the  manner  of  my  father's  introduction, 
the  chapel,  and  even  the  pulpit,  was  likely  to  be  the  scene 
of  no  less  division  than  the  board-room.     The  Lock   also 
might,  at  that  period,  be  considered  as  almost  the  head- 
quarters of  that  loose  and  notional  religion,  on  which  my 
father  had  commenced  his  attack  in  the  country.     Laying 
all  these  things  together,  and  taking  into  account  his  obscu- 
rity, and  the  humble  rustic  society  in  which,  almost  exclu- 
sively, he  had  hitherto  moved,  we  shall  cease  to  wonder 
at  his  last-recited  remark.     Still,  however,  contemplating 
the  consequences  of  his  removal  to  the  Lock,  only  as  far  as 
we  can  now  trace  them; — that,  without  this  step,  we  should 
never,  humanly  speaking,  have  had  his  Commentary  on  the 
scriptures,  (to  name  no  others  of  his  writings;)  and  that  the 
great  and  effective  stand,  which  he  was  enabled  to  make  in 
London,  against  a  very  meagre,  defective,  and  even  corrupt 
representation    of  Christianity,  would    never   have    been 
made:  when  all  this  is  considered,  I  trust  we  may  say,  that 
thousands    have  reason  to  pronounce  it  a  happy  inadver- 
tence, by  which  he  overlooked  difficulties  that  might  have 
led  him  to  decline  the  call  made  upon  him;  and  that  impar- 
tial bystanders  will  be  disposed  to  consider  ''the  unspeaka- 
ble mortifications  and  vexations"  which  followed,  as  the 
necessary  trials  of  his   faith,  the  preparatives   for  the   pe- 
culiar services  he  was  to  render,  and  the  requisite  counter- 
poise to  prevent  his  being  "exalted  above  measure,"  by 
the  flattering;  celebrity  and  the  great  usefulness  he  was  ulti- 


1785—8.]    COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       159 

mately  to  attain,  rather  than,  as  he  himself  was  ready  to 
think  them,  the  corrections  of  a  great  impropriety  of  which 
he  had  been  guilty. 

His  narrative  proceeds:  "My  salary  at  the  Lock  was  no 
more  than  80/.  a  year,  nearly  401.  of  which  was  necessary 
for  rent  and  taxes.  I  had,  however,  golden  promises;  but  I 
never  greatly  rehed  upon  thefti:  and  I  became  more  and 
more  convinced,  even  before  I  left  Olney,  that  they  would 
not,  in  any  measure,  be  realized.  I  discovered  that  party 
was  much  concerned  in  the  whole  business;  and  I  said  to  my 
family,  when  coming  to  town,  'Observe,  many  of  those  who 
now  appear  to  be  my  friends  will  forsake  me;  but  God  will 
raise  me  up  other  friends.'* 

"I  had  indeed  imagined  that  I  should,  without  much  diffi- 
culty, procure  a  lectureship  on  the  Sunday  afternoon  or 
evening,  and  perhaps  one  on  the  weekday;  and  I  stood 
ready  for  any  kind  or  degree  of  labor  to  which  I  might  be 
called.  But,  whilst  almost  all  my  brethren  readily  obtain- 
ed such  appointments,  I  could  never,  during  the  seventeen 
years  of  my  residence  in  town,  procure  any  lectureship, 
except  that  of  St.  Mildred's,  Bread  Street,  which,  in  a  man- 
ner, came  to  me,  because  no  other  person  thought  it  worth 
applying  for.  It  produced  me,  on  an  average,  aboqt  30/.  a 
year.  Some  presents,  however,  which  I  received,  added 
considerably  to  its  value  during  the  last  two  or  three  years 
that  I  held  it.  For  some  years  also,  I  preached  at  St.  Mar- 
garet's, Lothbury,  every  alternate  Sunday  morning,  at  six 
o'clock,  to  a  small  company  of  people,  and  administered  the 
sacrament.     The  stipend,  however,  for  this  service,  was 

*  It  is  amusing  to  me  to  recollect,  and  it  may  not  be  altogether  imper- 
tinent to  mention,  that  the  lext,  Prov.  xxvii,  14,  has  been  for  thirty -six 
years  distinctly  impressed  upon  my  mind,  owing  to  my  having,  so  long 
since,  heard  my  father  apply  it  to  the  then  loud  and  ardent  friendship  of 
one  of  the  governors  of  the  Lock.  The  words  are:  "He  that  blesseth  his 
friend  with  a  loud  voice,  rising  early  in  the  morning,  it  shall  be  counted  a 
eurse  to  liim.'*  The  anticipation  was  realized;  and  the  friendship  of  this 
gentleman  (who  died  many  years  ago)  soon  co  ded  into  indifference. 

One  honorable  exception  from  the  number  of  those  persons  who,  hav- 
ing brought  my  father  to  the  Lock,  afterwards  deserted  or  neglected 
him,  IS  entitled  to  be  mentioned.  I  refer  to  John  Pearson,  Esq.  of 
Golden-square,  for  many  years  surgeon  to  the  hospital.  My  father 
always  attributed  more  to  the  arguments  of  that  gentleman,  in  deciding 
his  acceptance  of  the  situation  at  the  Lock,  than  to  those  of  any  other 
person:  and  in  Mr.  P.  he  found  a  constant  friend  to  the  end  of  his  life; 
to  whom  he  was  indebted  for  many  personal  favors,  besides  the  most 
skilful  professional  assistance,  promptly  and  gratuitously  rendered  to  him 
and  his  family,  on  the  uuraerous  occasions  which  required  it. 


m  ^'ROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO    [Chap.  IX. 

only  7*.  Gd.  a  time;  though  1  walked  about  seven  miles  in 
going  and  returning." 

My  father  was  appointed  to  the  Sunday  afternoon  lec- 
tureship in  Bread  Street,  February  16,  1790,  and  retained 
it  till  he  was  chosen  sole  chaplain  to  the  Lock,  in  March, 
1802.  His  congregation  seldom  much  exceeded  a  hundred 
in  number;  but  they  were  attentive  hearers,  and  he  had  rea- 
son to  believe  that  his  preaching  there  was  useful  to  many 
persons,  several  of  whom  have  since  become  instruments 
of  good  t«  others.  One  it  may  be  allowable  to  specify, 
whose  extensive  and  invaluable  services  may  God  long  con- 
tinue and  abundantly  biess  to  his  church!  "I  myself,"  ob- 
serves the  Rev.  Daniel  Wilson,  in  a  note  annexed  to  his  fun- 
eral sermons  for  my  father,  "was,  five  or  six  and  twenty 
'years  since,  one  of  his  very  small  congregation  at  his  lec- 
ture in  the  city;  and  I  derived,  as  I  trust,  from  the  sound  and 
practical  instruction  which  I  then  received,  the  greatest  and 
most  permanent  benefit,  at  the  very  time  when  a  good  di- 
rection and  bias  were  of  the  utmost  importance — the  first 
setting  out  as  a  theological  student." 

To  the  morning  lecture  at  Lothbury,if  I  mistake  not,  he 
succeeded  when  Mr.  Cecil  became  unable  any  longer  to 
continue  it.  Though  a  source  of  no  emolument,  this  too  was 
a  pleasant  service  to  him.  Few  persons  would  attend  at 
that  early  hour,  who  did  not  bear  a  real  love  to  the  ordi- 
nances of  God's  house;  and  among  them  were  many  pious 
servants  and  others,  who  found  obstructions  to  attending 
public  worship  at  other  parts  of  the  day. 

In  adverting  tq  these  lectureships,  at  this  period  of  his 
narrative,  my  father  has  somewhat  anticipated:  it  may  be 
proper  that  1  should  so  far  follow  him,  as,  in  this  connexion, 
to  remark  the  extant  of  his  Sunday  labors  at  that  time. 
And  this  I  shall  do  in  the  words  of  a  lady  of  highly  respect- 
able station  and  connexions  in  hfe,  who  repeatedly  passed 
some  little  time  under  his  roof,  and  was  particularly  struck 
with  this  and  other  circumstances  of  his  habits  and  charac- 
ter.    She  writes  thus: 

"I  must  now,  my  dear  sir,  assure  you,  that,  during  my 
pretty  long  wanderings  in  the  world,  even  in  the  best  part 
of  it,  I  can  truly  affirm,  that  the  various  seasons  I  passed 
under  the  roof  of  your  excellent  parents  are  marked  with 
a  peculiar  force  on  my  memory,  as  presenting  what  came 
nearer  to  the  perfection  of  a  Christian's  pilgrimage  than  I 
Jiavc  often  met  with  elsewhere.     And  this  remembrance 


1786--8.]  COMMEISrCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.         161 

leads  me  to  express  the  hope,  that  you  will  not  fail  to  g^ive 
the  precise  and  accurate  report  of  your  great  father's  life  to 
the  careless  and  idle  world.  My  opportunities  have  mad« 
me  acquainted  with  such  diversities  of  habits,  that  I  beUeve 
the  information  you  can  furnish  of  his  extraordinary  labora 
will  surprise,  as  well  as  edify  many  a  weak  brother.  I  have 
been  called  upon  solemnly  to  attest  the  account  of  his  com- 
mon Sunday  work,  mental  and  bodily,  as  almost  beyond 
belief" 

This  address  led  to  the  request,  that  the  writer  would 
herself  put  down  what  had  struck  her,  as  an  occasional 
visitant,  more  than  it  might  have  done  those,  who,  from 
beino^  accustomed  to  it,  would  be  apt  to  pass  it  over  as  a 
matter  of  course.  The  reply  I  give  with  such  very  slight 
corrections  as  were  required. 

"The  account  1  have  been  accustomed  to  relate  of 
BIr.  Scott's  Sunday  labors,  is  as  follows,  and  my  memory 
does  not  tax  me  with  inaccuracy.  At  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning  of  every  alternate  Sunday,  winter  as  well  as  sum- 
mer, the  watchman  gave  one  heavy  knock  at  the  door,  and 
Mr.  S.  and  an  old  maid-servant  arose, — for  he  could  not  go 
out  without  his  breakfast.  He  then  set  forth  to  meet  a 
congregation  at  a  church  in  Lothbury,  about  three  miles 
and  a  half  off; — !  rather  think  the  only  church  in  London 
attended  so  early  as  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  think  he 
had  from  two  to  three  hundred  auditors,  and  administered 
the  sacrament  each  time.  He  used  to  observe  that,  if  at 
any  time,  in  his  early  walk  through  the  streets  in  the  depth 
of  winter,  he  was  tempted  to  complain,  the  view  of  the 
newsmen  equally  alert,  and  for  a  very  different  object, 
changed  his  repinings  into  thanksgivings. — From  the  city  he 
returned  home,  and  about  ten  o'clock  assembled  his  family 
to  prayers:  immediately  after  which  he  proceeded  to  the 
chapel,  where  he  performed  the  whole  service,  with  the 
adaiinistration  of  the  sacrament  on  the  alternate  Sundays, 
when  he  did  not  go  to  Lothbury.  His  sermons,  you  know, 
were  most  ingeniously  brought  into  an  exact  hour;  just 
about  the  same  time,  as  I  have  heard  him  say,  being  spent 
in  composing  them.  1  well  remember  accompanying  him 
to  the  afternoon  church  in  Bread  Street,  (nearly  as  far  as 
Lothbury,)  after  his  taking  his  dinner  without  sitting  down- 
On  this  occasion  I  hired  a  hackney-coach:  but  he  desired 
me  not  to  speak,  as  he  took  that  time  to  prepare  his  sermon, 
I  have  calculated  that  he  could  not  go  much  less  than  four- 
V    *14 


162  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO     [Ghai'.  IX. 

teeu  miles  in  the  day,  frequently  the  whole  of  it  on  foot, 
besides  the  three  services,  and  at  times  a  fourth  sermon  at 
Long-acre  Chapel,  or  elsewhere,  on  his  way  home  in  the 
evening:  and  then  he  concluded  the  whole  with  family 
prayer,  and  that  not  a  very  short  one. — Considering  his 
bilious  and  asthmatic  habit,  this  was  immense  laborl  And 
all  this  I  knew  him  do  very  soon  after,  if  not  the  very  next 
Sunday  after,  he  had  broken  a  rib  by  falling  down  the 
cabin-stairs  of  a  Margate  packet:  and  it  seemed  to  me  as  if 
he  passed  few  weeks  without  taking  an  emetic!  But  his 
heart  was  in  his  work;  and  I  never  saw  a  more  devoted 
Christian.  Indeed  he  appeared  to  me  to  have  hardly  a 
word  or  a  thought  out  of  the  precise  line  of  his  dutyi 
which  made  him  somewhat  formidable  to  weaker  and  more 
sinful  beings. — His  trials,  I  should  think,  (as  you  would 
have  me  honest  with  3'ou,)  were  those  of  temper.  Never, 
I  often  remarked,  was  there  a  petition  in  his  family  pray- 
ers, for  any  thing  but  the  pardon  of  sin,  and  the  suppress- 
ing of  corruption. — His  life,  and  labors,  and  devotedness, 
kept  him  from  much  knowledge  of  the  world;  but  the 
strength  of  his  judgment  gave  him  a  rapid  insight  into 
passmg  ati'airs:  and  upon  the  whole  I  should  be  inclined  to 
say,  he  was  one  of  the  wisest  men  1  ever  knew. — Yoa 
know  more  than  I  can  do  of  the  nature  and  habits  of  his 
daily  life.  I  can  only  say  that,  when  fatigued  with  writing, 
he  would  come  up  stairs,  where  the  Bible  was  generally 
open,  and  his  relaxation  seemed  to  be,  talking  over  some 
text  with  those  whom  he  found  there:  and  I  can  truly  de- 
clare that  I  never  lived  in  a  happier  or  more  united  familj'." 
It  is  implied  in  the  above  account,  that  my  father's  ser- 
mons were  usually  composed  the  same  day  they  were  de- 
livered. This  was  literally  the  case.  For  more  than  five 
and  thirty  years,  he  never  put  pen  to  paper  in  preparing 
for  the  puipit,  except  in  the  case  of  three  or  four  sermons, 
preached  on  particular  occasions,  and  expressly  intended 
for  publication:  yet  no  one  who  heard  him  would  complain 
of  crudeness  or  want  of  thought  in  his  discourses:  they  were 
rather  faulty  in  being  overcharged  with  matter,  and  too 
argumentative  for  the  generality  of  hearers. — Indeed,  an 
emment  chancery  lawyer  used  to  say  that  he  heard  him  for 
professional  improvement,  as  well  as  for  religious  edifica- 
tion; for  that  he  possessed  the  close  argumentative  eloquence 
pcicuiiarly,  requisite  at  that  bar,  and  which  w^as  found  to  b> 
so  rare  an  endowment. 


1785—6]  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       163 

His  statement  concerning  his  pecuniary  resources  in 
London  (from  which  we  digressed,)  he  thus  concludes: 
''The  Lord,  however,  provided  for  me  very  comiortably; 
though,  even  on  the  retrospect,  I  can  hardly  explain  or  con- 
ceive how  it  was  done.  A  subscription  was  annually  raised 
for  me  at  the  Lock,  as  had  been  promised;  but  it  fell  con- 
siderably short  of  what  I  had  been  taught  to  expect,  and  a 
great  proportion  of  it  came  from  persons  who  had  no  con- 
cern in  bringing  me  thither.  I  might  mention  some  re- 
spectable names  of  persons,  wholly  unknown  to  me  when  I 
came  to  town,  who  became  my  liberal  friends;  and  of  some 
who,  though  they  always  disapproved  my  ministry,  and 
avowed  their  disapprobation,  yet  contributed  to  my  sup- 
port." 

I  confess  it  is  with  some  reluct.ince  that  I  admit  these  de- 
tails of  the  straitened  and  dependent  provision  made  for  my 
father,  in  each  successive  place  to  which  he  removed:  not 
that  I  feel  as  if  any  personal  degradation  attended  the  cir- 
cumstance, but  lest  it  should  seem  to  be  obtruding  upon 
notice  private  affairs,  which  have  now  passed  away,  btill 
i  conceive  there  may  be  sufficient  reasons  for  not  withholding 
them.  They  present  one  part  of  those  ''struggles  through 
life"  which  make  up  his  history.  To  some  they  may  surely 
afford  occasion  of  gratitude:  they  are,  at  least,  comparatively 
rich.  Others  may  derive  encouragement  from  knowing 
that  my  father  always  livtd  comfortably,  though  literally 
he  did  little  more  than  receive  "day  by  day  his  daily  bread." 
All  may  justly  be  stimulated,  while  they  see  that  such  oar-- 
row  circumstances  were  never  any  check  to  his  unwearied 
and  disinterested  labors  to  be  useful.  And,  linalJy,  I  must 
insist  upon  \i^  that  such  circumstances,  borne  as  he  bore 
them,  ennobled  his  character.  Dr.  Franklin  has  remarked, 
that  it  is  "hard  to  make  an  empty  bag  stand  upright:"  but, 
however  empty,  my  father  always  stood  upright — not  with 
tiie  uprightness  oi"  integrity  only,  but  of  independence: — I 
do  not  mean  the  pride  which  rel'uses  to  receive  or  to  ac- 
knowledge an  obligation,  but  that  firm  rectitude  which  will 
not  sacriiice  judgment  and  principle  to  any  consideration 
whatever. — This  has  in  some  degree  appeared  already,  and 
it  will  appear  still  further  in  what  is  to  follow. — We  turn  to 
his  labors  at  the  Lock. 

"There  was  a  weekly  lecture  at  the  Lock  chapel,  on 
the  Wednesday  evening,  which  the  evening  preacher  and 
I  were  to  take  alternately.     All  circumstances  considered,  I 


164         FROai  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO        [Chap.IX. 

did  not  expect  much  usefulness  from  this  service.  I  there- 
fore intreated  the  actmg  governors  to  allow  me,  in  addition 
to  it,  to  preach  a  lecture  on  the  Friday  evenings;  the  ser- 
vice to  be  altogether  my  own.  This,  after  some  hesitation, 
was  conceded.  The  congregation,  which  might  be  expect- 
ed to  attend,  I  was  aware,  was  decidedly  Calvinistic:  but  I 
was  fully  determined  to  bring  forwafd  at  this  lecture  (which 
indeed  I  had  desired  almost  exclusively  ior  that  purpose,) 
every  thing,  in  the  most  particular  manner,  relative  to  the 
Christian  temper  and  conduct.  With  this  view  I  formed,  as 
I  foolishly  thought,  a  very  sagacious  plan.  I  gave  notice 
that  I  would  lecture,  in  an  expository  manner,  on  the 
Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  in  order.  At  first  I  was  very  well 
attended,  my  congregation  generally  consisting  of  more  than 
three  hundred  persons.  This  continued  while  I  was  going 
through  the  more  doctrinal  part  of  the  Epistle;  though  i 
apphed  ihe  doctrine  very  plainly  to  practical  purposes,  and 
often  intimated  my  hope,  that  1  should  be  favored  with 
equal  attention,  when  I  came  to  speak  more  particularly  on 
Christian  tempers  and  the  relative  duties. — But  tkt  Lord 
took  the  wise  in  his  own  crxtftiness.  When  I  arrived  at  the 
latter  part  of  the  fourth  chapter,  the  alarm  was  spread, 
though  I  stamped  every  exhortation  strongly  with  an  evan- 
gelical seal.  But  at  length,  when  I  preached  from  the  fifth 
chapter,  on  the  words.  See  that  ye  walk  circumspectly^  4"C., 
the  charge  was  every  where  circulated,  that  i  had  changed 
my  principles,  and  was  be(!^ome  an  Arminian:  and,  at  once, 
i  irrecoverably  lost  much  above  half  my  audience. — The 
Sunday  morning  congregation  also  greatly  decreased:  dis- 
satisfaction was  manifested  in  the  looks  and  language  of  all 
the  acting  governors,  even  such  as  had  been  most  friendly: 
and  I  seemed  to  have  no  alternalive,  but  that  of  either  re- 
ceding voluntarily  from  my  situation,  or  being  disgracefully 
dismissed. 

"I  had,  however,  no  place  to  which  to  retire:  every 
door  seemed  to  be  shut  against  me.  On  this  emergency, 
amidst  very  many  interruptions,  and  under  inexpressible  dis 
couragemeiit,  1  wrote  in  the  course  of  a  week,  and  preached 
on  the  Sunday  morning  following,  (November  26,  1786,) 
my  sermon  on  Election  and  Final  Perseverance.  By  the 
next  week  it  was  printed  and  ready  for  sale:  and  a  thousand 
copies  were  sold  in  about  three  days.  A  second  edition  was 
printed:  but  the  public  were  saturated,  and  few  copies 
were  disposed  of. 


1785—8.]    COMMENCING  IIIS  COMMENTARY.     1G5 

"While  I  was  preparing  this  sermon,  I  dined  with  rather 
a  large  party,  many  of  the  company  governors  of  the  Lock, 
and  zeaious,  in  their  way,  for  Calvinism.  In  the  evening 
it  was  proposed,  according  to  custom,  to  discuss  some  rehg- 
ious  subject:  and,^being  really  desirous  of  information,  I 
proposed  a  question  concerning  the  precise  boundaries  be- 
tween Calvinism  and  Arminianism,  respecting  which  so 
much  prejudice  against  my  ministry  had  been  excited.  But 
in  conference  they  added  nothing  unto  me:  and,  two  dis- 
senters excepted,  no  one  offered  any  thing  sufficient  to 
shew  that  he  understood  the  subject.  So  that,  when  1  con- 
cluded with  my  own  remarks,  it  was  allowed  that  I  was 
more  decidedl}^  Calvinistic  than  the  rest  of  the  company! — 
This  was  suited  in  one  way  to  gratify  me:  but  it  was  still 
more  calculated  to  convince  me,  that  I  was  placed  in  a 
most  unpromising  situation." 

I  well  remember  the  utter  astonishment  which  my  father 
expressed  on  returning  from  the  party  here  alluded  to. 
He  had  not  conceived  it  possible,  that  men,  known  in  the 
religious  world,  could  have  allowed  themselves  boldly  to 
take  a  side,  and  to  talk  loudly  in  favor  of  a  system,  of  which 
they  scarcely  knew  the  outlines,  and  the  grounds  of  which 
they  were  not  able  to  explain,  still  less  to  defend. — It  is 
much  to  be  hoped,  that  so  instructive  a  record,  as  we  are 
now  considering,  will  not  have  been  written  in  vain. 
That  some,  at  least,  will  allow  themselves  to  be  put  on 
their  guard  against  being  scared  by  the  terror  of  a  mere 
name;  and  will  be  induced,  after  the  honorable  example 
of  the  Bereans,  to  '-search  the  scriptures"  concerning  what 
they  hear,  and  to  ask,  not  by  what  distinctive  appellation  it 
may  be  described,  but  whether  it  is  "according  to  the  orar 
cies  of  God"  or  not. — It  is  to  be  hoped,  also,  that  some  per- 
sons, immersed,  perhaps,  in  secular  business,  from  Monday 
morning  till  Saturday  night,  may  be  induced  to  doubt  wheth- 
er they  are  quite  so  well  qualified  to  decide  upon  dillicult 
theological  questions,  as  they  may  have  taken  it  for  granted 
that  they  were. 

1  fear  it  is  but  too  obvious,  with  respect  to  many  of  the 
numbers  who  were  "irrecoverably"  driven  from  the  Lock, 
when  my  father  proceeded  to  unfold  and  apply  the  parts 
of  St.  Paul's  writings  which  treat  of  "Christian  tempers  and 
relative  duties,"  that  their  real  objection  was  not  to  Armin- 
ianism, (of  which  they  very  probably  scarcely  knew  the 
meaning,)  but  to  half  or  more  than  half  the  word  of  God, 


166  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY   TO       [Chai.  IX, 

They  had  heen  accustomed  to  ovorlook  it  thcm^elvc-., 
and  could  not  bear  to  iiave  it  pressed  upon  their  notice  by 
another. 

My  father  continues:  "I  had  at  this  time  many  iri=tr  ic- 
lors  as  to  my  style  of  [>reaciiing;  and  some  ai  the  Loc!: 
board  assumed  rather  a  hig-h  tone  of  authority:  while  otiiors 
were  disposed  to  counsel  me  as  the  messengers  of  Ah;i!> 
did  Michaiah.*  But  I  disposed  of  the  dictating-  instruction 
yery  shortly.  •Gentlem(;n,'  I  said,  '■you  {)0S3ess  authonly 
sufticient  to  c'lange  mejor  another  preacher,  wliencver  you 
plea^e;  but  you  have  no  power  to  chang^e  me  i7ito  another 
preacher,  if  you  do  not  convince  my  und'orstanding-  that  I 
am  m  an  error,  you  can  never  induce  me  to  alter  my  mclii 
od  of  preachiiig-.' 

"Tiie  vexations,  however,  wliich  1  continually  experi- 
enced, often  overcame  lor  a  time  my  patience  and  lorli- 
tude.  On  one  occasion  they  led  me  to  say  to  my  wile, 
HViiatever  be  the  consequence,  I  will  quit  this  situation;  for 
I  sh;)l!  never  have  any  peace  in  ii.'  She  promptly  answer- 
ed: 'Take  hee.i  vviiat  you  do:  if  you  leave  your  station  in 
ib.is  s])irit,  3  on  will  perhaps  soon  be  with  Jonah  iti  the 
^vhale's  belly. *  Tiie  check  was  seasonable,  and  procured 
my    ;iC({Uiescence. 

'■'■Vai'ious  plans  were  devi-ed  to  cointerac'  the  declension 
of  the  com^fregation,  consequerit  on  my  increa-^ing  unpopu- 
larity. Amop.g-  oliu  rs,  a  })rc;iciier  oi"  some  name  oiieied, 
when  ill  to'.vn,  to  take  tlie  Sun?!ay  morning  sermon  graiu:- 
iousiy;  and  this  was  proposed  to  me  witli  assurances  that 
my  income  siiould  suifer  no  diminution.  I  a.n>wered,  'Gen- 
tlemen, i  c.nne  hither  for  the  work,  an-l  not  lor  the  wages; 
and  if  you  take  that  from  me,  I  vviil  certamiy  go  and  -eek 
employment  elsewhere."*  This  disconcerted  ihe  id;;'.;; 
n  hich  was,  however,  abandoned  chielly  through  the  mier- 
i)osition  of  the  Earl  of  Dartmoutii  (a  constant  attendant  on 
tlie  mormng  service  at  the  i^ock,)  wno  ren)arketi,  "That 
be  tliougiitit  would  be  better  ibr  the  genileiuaa  in  (piestion 
to  reside  on  lus  living,  <uid  attend  to  Ins  own  tlcck.  than 
to  intermeddle  withoiher  men's  labors:  an!  that,if  t::e  [)res- 
ent  preachers  in  the  chapel  were  incompetent,  it  might  be 
proper  to  dismiss  them,  hut  not  in  -0  lUsgracrfid  ;i  manner 
to  supersede  cither  the  one  or  itie  other  of  lii(  •'.n.' 


1785—8.]   COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.      167 

"Every  thing,  however,  conduced  to  render  me  more 
and  more  unpopular,  not  only  at  the  Lock,  but  in  every  part 
of  London;  and  numbers,  who  never  heard  me  preach, 
were  fully  possessed  with  the  idea,  that  there  was  something 
very  wrong  both  in  my  preaching  and  in  my  spirit.  Much 
defect,  especially  as  to  manner,  I  am  fully  conscious  of:  but 
1  am  equally  conscious^  that  I  did  not  give  way  to  anger  in 
ray  ministry;  but  that  my  most  distinguishing  reprehensions 
of  those,  who  perverted  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel  to  anti- 
nomian  purposes,  and  my  most  awful  warnings,  were  the 
language  of  compassionate  love,  and  were  accompanied  by 
many  tears  and  prayers.  My  most  respectable  and  constant 
hearers,  who  often  expressed  dissatisfaction  with  my  man- 
ner, and  with  my  dwelling  disproportionately  on  certain 
points  in  debate;  or  being  too  severely  pointed  in  exposing 
the  religious  deficiences  of  persons  of  fair  moral  character; 
never  imputed  to  me  a  harsh  and  angry  spirit  in  the  pulpit: 
the  charge  of  scolding  was  brought  against  me,  precisely  as 
had  been  the  case  at  Olney,  either  by  those  who  seldom  or 
never  heard  me,  or  by  those  very  practical  anlinomians, 
whose  awful  and  pernicious  delusion  1  endeavored  to  ex- 
pose. 

"During  this  time,  almost  my  whole  comfort,  as  a  minis- 
ter, arose  from  my  labors  in  the  hospital,  which,  with  all 
the  disgusting  circumstances  of  the  service,  were  far  more 
pleasing  and  encouraging  to  me,  than  preaching  in  the 
chapel.  I  constantly  attended  twice  in  the  week;  each 
time  preaching  first  in  the  women's  wards,  and  then  in  the 
men's.  I  took  the  plainest  portions  of  scripture,  and  spoke 
in  a  strain  of  close  address  to  the  conscience,  and  altogether 
in  a  manner,  which  I  could  never  equal  in  any  other  place; 
and  so  as  always  to  fix  the  attention,  and  often  greatly  to 
affect  the  hearts,  of  my  poor  profligate  auditors.  I  conclud- 
ed each  address  with  an  appropriate  prayer.  I  was  restrict- 
ed by  no  rules:  indeed  I  could  not  have  acted  to  my  own  sat- 
isfaction, had  any  been  prescribed:  but  I  did  the  very  best 
that  I  could. 

"I  soon  perceived  the  plan,  and  indeed  the  institution 
itself,  to  be  utterly  incomplete,  as  far  as  the  female  patients 
were  concerned:  as  they  had,  in  general,  on  leaving  the 
hospital,  no  other  alternative  open  before  them  but  return- 
ing to  their  former  course  of  life,  (which,  in  the  great  ma- 
jority of  instances,  was  that  of  prostitution;)  or  encounter- 
ing hardships  which  it  could  not  be  supposed  they  would 


168  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO      [Chap.  IX. 

have  resolution  to  endure.  Direct  starving,  indeed,  cannot 
in  this  country  be  a  frequent  danger:  but  to  prefer  the 
frowns  and  reproaches  of  the  parish  officer,  and  the  re- 
straiats  and  grievances  of  a  workhouse,  under  the  most  un- 
favorable circumstances  possible,  to  the  ruinous  indeed,  but 
for  the  moment  jovial  and  self-indulgent  life  to  which  she 
has  been  accustomed,  is  more  than  can  reasonably  be  ex- 
pected of  a  female  patient  just  discharged  from  the  Lock 
Hospital!* — It  could  not  then,  be  hoped  that  these  women, 
so  situate,  would  do  otherwise  than  close  their  ears  against 
all  instruction,  and  every  admonition  which  called  them  to 
so  severe  a  trial. 

•■'Amidst  all  my  difficulties,  therefore,  I  formed  the  plan 
of  an  asylum,  into  which  such  of  these  unhappy  objects,  as 
desired  it,  might  be  admitted  on  their  leaving  the  hospital. 
I  wrote  a  pamphlet  on  the  subject,  and  read  it  in  manu- 
script to  Lord  Dartmouth,  Sir  Charles  Middleton,  (since 
Lord  Barham)  and  some  others.  Being  encouraged  by  them, 
I  printed  it,  proposing,  at  the  same  time,  a  meeting  to  be 
held  for  the  purpose  of  taking  the  subject  into  consideration: 
and,  putting  it  under  cover  as  a  letter,  I  left  it  myself  at 
the  doors  of  most  of  the  nobility  and  principal  gentry  in 
town.  Being  so  left,  it  was  generally  read;  and  the  result 
is  known.  A  meeting  was  held,  (April  17,  1787,)  the  Duke 
of  Manchester  taking  the  chair;  and,  with  much  difficulty, 
an  asylum  was  formed,  on  a  very  small  scale.  It  often  ap- 
peared to  me  that  it  must  be  given  up,  for  want  of  money 
to  defray  the  expences.  For  a  long  time  the  only  return  I 
met  with  for  my  assiduity  was  censure,  even  from  quarters 
from  which  I  least  expected  it:  but  I  trust  several  immor- 
tal souls  have  been,  and  will  be  saved  by  means  of  the  in- 
stitution.— I  cannot  doubt  that  the  very  opposition  at  first 
made  to  it  by  some  friends  of  the  Magdalen,  who  afterwards 
favored  it,  occasioned  some  important  improvements  in  the 
management  of  that  charity:  and  institutions  on  the  same  gen- 
eral principle  have  since  been  formed  at  Dublin,  Bristol, 
Hull,  and  some  other  places,  (not  to  mention  the  London 
Penitentiary,)  in  respect  of  which,  the  letters  1  received 
fully  shewed,  that  my  little  attempt  had  in  some  measure 
suggested  the  idea  to  those  who  founded  them." 

•  It  would  be  to  require  of  them  "the  faith  and  constancy  of  a  mar- 
tyr (in  steadily  preferring  the  greatest  hardships  to  a  ready  relief  by  sin,) 
io  the  very  first  onset  of  a  reformation."    My  father's  Pamphlet,  1787. 


1T85— 8.]     COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.     16^ 

The  reflecting  reader  will  not  fail  to  be  struck  with  the 
wonted  zeal  and  energy  of  my  father's  mind,  as  displayed 
on  this  occasion,  in  forming  and  carrying  into  effect  such  a 
design,  while  he  was  yet  an  obscure  stranger  in  London,  and 
in  other  respects  very  disadvantageously  situate. — During 
the  whole  term  of  his  continuance  in  town  he  acted  as 
chaplain  to  the  new  institution,  and  took  the  principal  share 
in  the  management  of  its  concerns.  For  several  years  he 
attended  daily  (without  any  remuneration,)  to  conduct  fam- 
ily worship,  and  give  religious  instruction  in  the  house;  and 
he  constantly  had  a  servant  in  his  family  taken  from  the 
asylum.  The  reports,  drawn  up  by  him,  detail  many  in- 
stances of  those  who  were  not  only  reclaimed  and  restored 
to  society,  but  evidently  converted  to  God  by  the  means 
thus  used;  and  who  shewed  this  by  a  long  course  of  con- 
sistent conduct, — terminating,  in  several  cases,  in  a  Chris- 
tian and  happy  death. 

It  might  be  observed,  that  my  father  printed  an  abridge- 
ment of  his  discourse  on  Repentance,  (forty  or  fifty  pages) 
and  gave  a  copy  to  each  patient  discharged  from  the  hos- 
pital, who  chose  to  apply  for  it.  He  also  published  a  little 
tract,  entitled,  "Hints  to  Patients  in  Hospitals,"  not  adapted 
exclusively  to  the  case  of  those  amongst  whom  he  labored. 

An  extract  of  a  letter  written  by  him  in  May,  1789,  may 
be  properly  introduced  in  this  connexion,  it  may  both  dis* 
play  the  strength  of  his  feeUng  upon  such  subjects,  and  con- 
vey an  useful  hint  to  more  than  one  description  of  persons. 
It  should  be  remembered  that  it  comes  from  one,  who  had 
ample  opportunity  of  knowing  the  truth  of  what  he  asserts. 

"By  no  means  let come  to  London,  if  you  can  help 

it.  I  look  upon  the  young  women  who  <jome  to  London  for 
places,  (a  few  prudent  and  very  clever  ones  excepted,)  just 
in  the  light  1  do  upon  the  cattle  that  come  to  Smithfield 
market:  they  come  to  be  a  prey  to  the  inhabitants.  I  won- 
der any  of  those  who  have  not  very  prudent  and  friendly 
connexions  escape  prostitution.  ...  At  every  offence,  girls 
are  turned  out  of  doors  with  a  month's  wages,  often  in  the 
evening,  and  at  an  hour's  warning.  They  have  lodgings 
to  seek:  a  set  of  wretches  let  lodgings,  who  make  it  their 
study  to  betray  them  into  situations  from  which  few  escape. 
Often  their  clothes  are  stolen:  if  not,  they  are  pawned  for 
money  to  pay  expenses,  and  in  a  few  weeks  they  are  thuf 
stripped  of  apparel  and  can  go  to  no  place  at  all.  In  shorty 
(^an^ors  are  innumerable,  aad  the  number  that^  without 
46 


170  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO     [Chap.  IX, 

any  such  previous  intention,  are  seduced  and  become  pros- 
titutes, and  perish  without  any  regarding  it,  is  incredible. 
It  is  shocking  to  me  beyond  expression:  and  I  think  1  should 
leave  London  with  pleasure,  for  this  single  circumstance, 
•^id  not  a  sense  of  duty  at  present  detain  me:  but  perhaps 
that  will  not  long  be  the  case. — But  all  will  be  well,  and 
will  end  well,  for  them  that  trust  in  and  serve  God." 

The  narrative  proceeds:  ''In  the  summer  of  1787  I  vis- 
ited Olney  and  the  vicinity,  and  there  preached  a  sermon 
on  Phil,  i,  9 — 14,  which  1  afterwards  printed,  chiefly  for 
the  benefit  of  my  late  people  there:  but  it  has  since  been 
repeatedly  published,  in  an  extended  form,  under  the  title 
of  'A  Treatise  on  Growth  in  Grace.' 

The  visit  here  referred  to  was  not  the  first  which  he 
paid  to  his  beloved  people  in  Buckinghamshire:  he  had  been 
with  them  in  the  autumn  of  1786.  Nor  was  this  sermon  the 
only  proof  of  his  care  for  them.  From  letters  to  a  princi- 
pal parishioner  at  Ravenstone,  I  find  that  he  sent  them  fre- 
quent supplies  of  books,  wrote  them  pastoral  letters  adapted 
to  their  circumstances,  and  made  remittances  of  money  for 
the  relief  of  their  temporal  wants.  From  this  correspon- 
dence I  shall  introduce  some  extracts  in  their  proper  place. 

He  proceeds  concerning  his  publications:  "Having  added 
this  discourse  to  the  Force  of  Truth,  the  Treatise  on  Re- 
pentance, and  the  Sermon  on  Election  and  Final  Persever- 
ance; and  finding  nothing  which  I  published  sell,  even  so 
far  as  to  pay  the  expenses,  I  concluded  that  I  had  mistaken 
my  talent,  and  almost  resolved  to  print  no  more.  Yet  I 
had  much  spare  time,  and  I  found  little  either  advantage 
or  comfort  in  visiting. 

"For  some  time  1  had  frequent  invitations  to  meet  dinner 
parties  formed  of  persons  professing  religion;  and  I  gener- 
ally accepted  them:  yet  I  seldom  returned  home  without 
dissatisfaction,  and  even  remorse  of  conscience.  One  day 
(the  Queen's  birth  day.)  I  met,  at  the  house  of  a  rather 
opulent  tradesman,  a  large  party,  among  whom  were  some 
other  ministers.  The  dinner  was  exceedingly  splendid  and 
luxurious,  consisting  of  two  courses^  including  every  deli- 
cacy hi  season.  Some  jokes  passed  upon  the  subject;  nnd 
one  person,  in  particular,  a  minister  of  much  celebrity, 
said,  'If  we  proceed  thus,  we  shall  soon  have  the  gout  num- 
bered among  the  privileges  of  the  gospel!'  This  passed  off 
very  well:  but  in  the  evening,  a  question  being  proposed 
on  the  principal  dangers  to  which  evangehcal  religion  was 


1785—8.]    COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.     171 

exposed  in  the  present  day,  when  it  came  to  my  turn  to 
speak,  I  ventured  to  say,  that  conformity  to  the  world  among 
persons  professing  godliness  was  the  grand  danger  of  all. 
One  thing  led  to  another,  and  the  luxurious  dinner  did  not 
pass  unnoticed  by  me.  I  expressed  myself  as  cautiously  as 
I  could,  consistently  with  my  conscience;  but  I  observed 
that,  however  it  might  be  needful  for  Christians  in  superior 
stations  sometimes  to  give  splendid  and  expensive  dinners  to 
their  worldly  relations  and  connexions,  yet,  when  ministers 
and  Christians  met  together  as  such,  it  was  not  consistent; 
but  should  be  exchanged  for  more  frugal  entertainments  of 
each  other,  and  more  abundant  feeding  of  ^^e  poor^  the  maim- 
ed^ the  lame^  and  the  blind.  (Luke  xiv,  12 — -14.) — Probably 
I  was  too  pointed;  and  many  strong  expressions  of  disap- 
probation were  used  at  the  time:  but  I  went  home  as  one 
who  had  thrown  off  a  great  burden  from  his  back — re- 
joicing in  the  testimony  of  my  conscience.  The  consequence 
was,  a  sort  of  tacit  excommunication  from  the  circle.  The 
gentleman  at  whose  house  this  passed  never  invited  me 
again  but  once,  and  then  our  dinner  was,  literally,  a  piece 
of  boiled  beef. — He  was,  however,  I  believe,  a  truly  pious 
man,  though  misled  by  bad  examples  and  customs.  He  al- 
ways continued  to  act  towards  me  in  a  friendly  manner; 
and,  though  I  had  not  seen  him  for  several  years,  he  left 
me  a  small  legacy  at  his  death. 

"By  these  means  I  had  still  more  unoccupied  time,  which 
I*did  not  well  know  how  to  turn  to  good  account;  for  I  found 
little  opening  or  encouragement  in  attempting  to  visit  and 
converse  with  the  poor;  and  I  had  neither  the  same  views 
of  preparing  for  future  service,  by  studj,  that  I  have  since 
had,  nor  the  means  of  obtaining  proper  books  ibr  the  pur- 
pose.    Yet,  in  one  way  or  another,  I  was  always  employed." 

The  above  observations  lead  to  the  account  of  my  fa- 
ther's undertaking  his  commentary  on  the  scriptures.  We 
have  now,  therefore,  arrived  at  the  eve  of  his  commencing 
the  great  work  of  his  hfe;  and,  previously  to  entering  upon 
its  history,  it  may  be  advisable  her^e  again  to  pause,  and  re- 
view such  parts  of  his  correspondence  as  have  come  to  hand, 
illustrative  of  the  period  and  the  subjects  which  have  al- 
ready passed  before  us,  and  of  his  situation  and  proceed- 
ings at  the  Lock  even  to  a  somewhat  later  date. 

To  his  elder  sister  he  gave  the  following  account  of  his 
new  situation  and  employments. 


172  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO      [Chap.  iX,- 

'•January  19,  1786.  I  can  form  no  manner  oi"  conclusion 
whether  this  removal  will  be  an  advantag-e  or  disadvantage 
to  my  secular  interest.  However  I  have  acted  according 
to  my  judgment  and  conscience,  and  tind  no  difficulty  in 
leaving  the  event  to  him  who  says.  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of 
Gocl^  <Sf'C.  .  .  .  The  Sunday  morning  congregations  are  large, 
and  many  of  them  persons  of  rank  and  fortune,  who  yet 
approve  ol'our  unfashionable  doctrines,  I  preach  likewise 
every  other  Wednesday  evening,  and  every  Friday  evening 
to  considerable  numbers,  at  stated  times  in  the  week  1  visit 
the  patients,  explain  the  scriptures  and  pray  with  them. 
They  are  in  general  ol"  the  most  wretched  and  abandoned 
©f  the  human  species,  many  of  them  common  prostitutes: 
yet,  remembering  that  .lesus  himself  disdained  not  to  preach 
to  such,  and  told  the  proud  pharisees,  that  the  publicans  and 
harlots  entered  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  before  thcin^  1  take 
pleasure  in  this  work,  and  expect  much  good  from  it;  and 
I  find  the  poor  wretches  exceedingly  attentive,  and  very 
much  afl'ected.  Jesus  Christ  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttcrmosi 
till  them  that  come  to  God  by  him;  and  him  that  cometh  unto 
him^  he  u"?'/^  m  7io  zvise  cast  out.  Nothing  is  war.ting  l)ut  to 
convince  them  all  of  their  need  of  such  a  Savior. — About 
seven  hundred  of  these  poor  creatures  pass  through  the 
hospital  in  the  course  of  a  year.  So  you  see  1  have  some 
work,  but  I  want  more.*' 

A  letter  to  his  younger  sister.  May  6,  ITGG.  notices  n  pub- 
lication  which  has  not  been  mentioned  in  the  narrative.  "Dr. 
Conyers  of  Deptford  (a  very  excellent  ministe]',)  died,  al- 
most in  the  pulpit,  last  Sunday  sennight:  and  l;!:<t  Sunday  I 
preached  a  sermon  at  the  Lock  v,ith  some  reference  to  tljis 
event,  which  1  have  been  applied  to,  irom  a  respectiible 
quarter,  to  commit  to  paper;  probably  for  publication.  Tiii-" 
must  be  done  immediately." — The  quarter  irom  winch  the 
application  came  was,  I  believe,  the  late  .lolin  Thornton, 
Esq.  whose  friendship  my  father  enjoyed,  and  whose  sister 
Dr.  Conyers  had  married. 

The  case  of  an  orphan  niece,  in  a  precarious  state  of 
health,  gave  occasion  to  the  Ibllowing  judicious  advice  in 
the  same  letter. 

^4  would  hope,  and  have  you  liope  the  best  of  her  in  re- 
spect of  spiritual  concerns;  but  would  liave  her  fear  tlie 
worst.  Long  experience  convinces  me  that  no  mistake  is 
more  common  or  fatal,  than  too  hastily  encouragmg  persons 
sinder  serious  impres-^ions    to  think  that   they  have  already 


1785—8.]  COMMENCING  HIS  COxMMENTARY.      173 

passed  a  saving  change,  and  that  all  is  now  well.  Repre- 
senting salvation  as  invariably  consequent  upon  a  diligent, 
humble,  persevering  application  to  Christ,  in  prayer  and 
the  use  of  means,  affords  a  sufficient  stay  to  the  newly 
awakened  mind,  keeps  it  attentive,  and  spurs  it  on  to  dili- 
gence. But  should  a  person  falsely  think  all  right,  this  per- 
suasion will  sooth  his  conscience,  slacken  his  diligence, 
and  lull  him  to  sleep.  Our  compassion  for  persons  under 
leoncern  for  their  salvation  often  operates  in  this  manner. 
But  a  skilful  surgeon  is  always  afraid  of  a  hasty  cure. — 
This  hint  I  know  you  will  understand,  and,  in  speaking  to 
your  niece,  will  take  care  to  keep  alive  a  jealousy  of  her- 
self.— I  hope  I  do  continue  to  pray  for  her,  and  you,  and  all 
my  relations.  I  have  much  cause  for  gratitude  for  the 
past,  and  encouragement  for  the  others;  especially  as  I 
am  continually  getting  auxiliaries  to  assist  me  in  praying 
for  them." 

To  the  Rev.  John  Ryland,  Jun.  Northampton,  now  DpI 
Ryland  of  Bristol,  he  thus  writes. 

"May  !I4,  1786.  I  trust  I  can  truly  say  that  I  also  have 
the  welfare  of  all  the  friends  of  truth  and  holiness  near  my 
heart;  and  1  know  but  few  in  my  own  line,  that  I  feel  more 
cordially  united  to,  than  yourself,  Mr.  Fuller,  and  Mr.  Sym- 
monls,  of  Bedford.  I  hear  also  that3^ou  all  have  your  trials, 
and  did  I  not  hear,  I  should  suppose  it  as  a  thing  of  course; 
because  1  trust  the  Lord  loves  you,  and  intends  to  make  use 
of  you;  and  the  devil  hates  you,  and  fears  the  effects  of 
your  goings  on  From  both  these  causes  trials  must  spring: 
but  here  lies  the  dilference,  the  Lord  means  your  good,  the 
devil  your  hurt:  but  the  Lord  will  accomplish  his  design,  and 
make  the  devil,  sorely  against  his  will,  to  be  his  instrument 
in  so  doing.  I  have  not  read^  though  1  have  just  seen  R. 
R.''s  sermons,  who  seems  fast  verging  towards  infidelity  or 
scepticism.  The  Lord  preserve  us  from  ihe  pride  of  learn- 
ing and  abilities.  If  we  once  think  ourselves  competent  to 
widerstand  the  Bible  by  dint  of  our  own  sagacity,  and  skill 
in  Imguagcs  and  criticism,  without  an  immediate  and  con- 
tinual dependence  upon  the  teaching  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  we 
are  within  a  fow  paces  of  some  dreadful  downfall.  Witness 
Mr^dan,  Withers,  (though  scarcely  worthy  to  keep  such 
conpany,}  and  II.  Robinson;  who  m  their  several  publica- 
tions all  either  expres-^iy  disavow,  or  tacitly  pass  by  the 
mention  of  ^^uch  a  dependence. —  Your  intelligence  from 
New  England  is  of  another  sort,  and  right  glad  1  am  to  hear, 
*15 


174  FROM  qriTTlNG  GLNEY  TO     [Chap.   tX. 

ibat  now,  when,  by  other  accounts,  the  enemy  is  coming  in  like 
ajlood^ — an  inundation  of  Socinianism,  infidelity,  and  profli- 
gacy,— the  spirit  of  the  Lord  is  lifting  up  a  standard  against 
him.  May  he  revive  his  work  as  in  fonner  days  among 
them! — But  I  must  not  proceed  further  without  answering 
your   kind  inquiries    after  me    and  mine.     The  Lord  has 

enabled  me  so  to  conduct  myself  towards  Mr. ,  that, 

though  there  may  not  be  all  that  cordiality  which  might  be 
wished  for,  there  is  no  dissention,  nor  much  shyness. 
There  seemed  at  first  a  strong  and  formed  party  agains^me 
among  the  hearers;  but  I  beUeve  it  will  all  die  away  of 
itself.  Mr.  S.  has  withdrawn  his  assistance  from  the  charity, 
and  endeavored  to  influence  some  others;  but  the  Lord  ha* 
raised  up  new  friends  and  subscribers,  and  the  charity  ser- 
mons exceeded  expectation.  The  congregation  increases^ 
and  consequently  we  suppose,  the  income  of  the  chapel. 
In  the  year  ending  Lady  Day,  1783,  the  chapel  brought  in 
760/.:  the  year  ending  Lady  Day,  1786,  it  brought  in  less 
than  500/.  Had  the  income  continued  to  diminish,  my  sit:- 
nation  would  have  been  very  uneasy,  if  not  unteiutble..  But 
the  promising  appearances  have  enoouraged  my  friends^y. 
stilled  my  enemies,,  and  brought  over  some.  At  the  same  time 
my  very  homely,  plain,  rough,  practical  preaching  is  receiv- 
ed in  a  manner  more  favorable  than  1  could  have  imagined. 
Lord  and  Lady  Dartmouth,  and  a  few  otlicrs  of  the  higher 
ranks,  by  their  approbation,  have  given  a  sanclionloit.  The 
cry  of  Arminian  and  Papist  was  raised,  but  soon  died  away^ 
Mr.  S.  wrote  twice  to  me,  and  then  gave  me  up.  I  question 
whether  all  the  whole  number  of  governors  [two  or  three 
excepted,)  are  not  staunch  friends;  if  not  out  of  love  to  the 
gospel,  yet  out  of  regard  to  the  charity.  As  to  success,  I 
can  only  say,  that  there  is  a  very  pleasing  and  promising  at-^ 

tention,  and  an  increase  of  numbers:  many  of  Mr. 's 

friends  are  reconciled  to  my  preaching,  and  I  preach  in 
many  places  with  tolerable  acceptance  to  great  numbers. 
And  among  the  patients  I  hope  some  good  will  be,  and  io 
done.  But  another  time  I  may  be  more  particular.  1  be- 
lieve I  have  done  right.  I  am  glad  to  inform  you,  that  Mr, 
Foster,  and  several  others,  preach  fully  upon  our  plan,  and 
more  are  preaching  invitingly  and  practically.,  Dr.  Withers 
o-ains  no  regard  here,  and  seems  to  sink  into  oblivion.  I  have 
published  a  second  edition  of  the  Discourse  on  Repentance, 
with  some  additions,  in  which  I  have  borne  testimony 
agaifi^stsome  of  his  sentiments  without  mentioning  his  name.- 


I'T85— &.]     COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.     17-5 

I  hope  to  have  done  in  a  few  weeks,  when  I  shall  perhaps 
see  you.  We  are  all  tolerably  well^  and  send  as  much 
love  to  you  all  as  can  be  cranuned  in.  Yours  aifection- 
ately,  T.  Scott." 

Another  letter  to  the  same  correspondent,  though  of  a 
later  date,  may  not  improperly  be  introduced  here,  as  it 
further  explains  the  writer's  views,  without  any  thing  else 
pecuUar  to  the  time  at  wliich  it  was  written,  than  a  slight 
reference  to  his  Essays  then  in  the  course  of  publication  in 
the^^orm  of  tracts. 

''September  30,  1793.  The  little  Essays  sell  very  fast, 
and  I  hope  will  have  a  measure  of  usefulness.  However^ 
truth  is  the  only  seed  from  which  real  holiness  or  happiness 
can  grow;  and  unless  seed  be  sown,  we  cannot  expect  a 
crop.  Indeed  much  of  it  may  perish  in  the  ground,  and 
much  of  it  lie  dormant  for  a  long  time;  yet  our  business  is, 
in  every  way,  and  by  every  means,  to  be  sowing  the  truth 
according  to  our  apprehensions  of  it,  and  to  trust  in  God, 
and  beg  of  him  to  rendei;  it  productive  by  his  special  grace. 
This  is  particularly  the  great  business  of  a  minister's  life; 
and,  though  we  often  may  seem  to  labor  in  vain,  and  dis- 
co tiragements  may  be  needful  for  us,,  to  keep  us  from  being 
exalted  above  measure^  we  shall,  I  trust,,  find  at  last,  that 
more  of  the  seed  sown  was  productive,  than  we  in  general 
supposed.  It  appears  to  me  that  a  superfi-cial  gospel  will 
almost  always  at  first  make  more  rapid  progress,  than  the 
whole  truth  of  revelation  solidly  proposed  to  mankind; 
(except  at  such  seasons  as  that  which  followed  the  day  of 
Pentecost:)  but  then  these  superficial  effects  die  away,  and 
gradually  come  to  little;  whereas  the  less  apparent  eflect 
of  the  whole  truth  abides  and  increases  permanently.  This 
has  been  remarkably  Hie  case  in  the  vicinity  of  Olney:  the 
effect  of  my  ministry  now  appears  much  more  evidently,, 
than  when  I  left  that  situation;  and  this  encourages  me,, 
amidst  the  manifold  discouragements  of  my  present  station.. 
— You  see  I  take  it  for  granted,  in  opposition  to  the  verdict 
of  a  vast  majority  of  London  professors,  that  1  have  the 
truth  on  my  side:  and  indeed  1  have  so  long  and  so  earnestly 
examined  the  sacred  scriptures,  and  considered  the  various 
schemes  of  those  around  me,  with  fervent,  constant  prayer 
to  know  the  truth,  more  than  for  almost  any  other  mercy, 
that  I  scarcely  know  how  to  think  that  I  can  be  mistaken  in 
those  grand  matters^  in  which  I  differ  from  so  many  modern 
professors  in  the  establishment,  among  the  two  descriptioos 


176  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO     [Chap.  IX. 

of  Methodists,  and  among  the  Dissenters;  for,  as  to  lesser 
differences,  I  am  not  very  confident,  and  am  probably  mis- 
taken in  many  things;  but  not  willingly.  Yet  I  can  truly 
say,  that  I  scarcely  ever  hear  or  read  any  way  of  stating 
doctrines  differently  from  what  I  adopt,  but  I  give  it  a  fair 
examination,  and  seek  to  know  the  mind  of  God  respecting 
it;  desiring  to  be  a  learner,  that  I  may  be  a  teacher  to  the 
end  of  my  life.  In  general  1  accord  with  the  American 
divines:  and  yet,  in  some  things,  I  rather  dissent  from  them; 
^  especially  in  that,  as  I  think,  they  rather  consider  what  true 
religion  is  in  the  abstract,  than  as  it  subsists  in  the  mind  of 
such  poor  creatures  as  we  are,  with  ail  our  infirmities^ 
prejudices,  &c.  &c.  in  that  they  sometimes  insist  on  the  ne- 
cessity of  seeing  such  and  such  things,  when  perhaps  many 
upright  souls  only  believe  them,  that  is,  allow  them  to  be  so 
on  God's  testimony,  though  they  cannot  see  them  so  clearly 
as  others  do:  in  that  they  seem  sometimes  to  give  too  little 
encouragement  to  inquirers:  and  in  that  they  would  have 
self-love  almost  excluded  from  religion;  whereas  it  seems 
to  me,  that  it  is  a  part  of  our  nature  as  God  made  us,  not 
as  sin  hath  made  us;  that  sin  has  only  per/erted  it,  and  that 
grace  recovers  us  from  that  perversion,  and  brings  us  to 
love  ourselves  wisely,  by  seeking  happiness  in  God  and  not 
in  the  creature;  in  which  exercise  of  it,  it  perfectly  consists 
with  the  supreme  love  of  God,  and  equal  love  of  our 
neighbor,  and  with  doing  all  to  the  glory  of  God. 

"When  I  began  to  write,  1  no  more  thought  of  this  sub- 
ject than  I  did  of  filling  my  paper,  which  I  have  almost 
done.  However,  as  I  trust  truth  is  our  object,  and  as  we 
are  both  likely  to  be  placed  in  situations,  if  we  are  spared, 
in  which  we  shall  disseminate,  perhaps  'videly,  those  prin- 
ciples we  deem  to  be  truth,  and  as  a  little  deviation  may 
sometimes  counteract  our  endeavors,  I  should  not  be  sorry 
now  and  then,  when  you  have  leisure,  to  exchange  a  letter 
on  these  subjects;  as  the  discussion  of  them  m.iy  be  mutually 
useful  to  us.  1  am,  dear  Sir,  your  affectionate  iriend  and 
brother,  T,  S." 

I  shall  next  lay  before  the  reader  some  extracts  of 
letters  to  his  late  respected  parishioner,  Mrs.  Godfrey,  of 
Ravenstone. 

"December  20,  1736.  The  opposition  was  so  great  against 
me  here  in  town  since  my  return  from  Bucks,  that  my  con- 
gregation seemed  almost  gone,  and  other  pulpiis  shut  against 
me;  and  1  thought  it  scarcely  possible  for  me  iong  to  maintain 


1.783—8.]    COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.     17f 

my  post  at  the  Lock,  or  in  London.     I  know  not  that  ever  I 
was  so  desponding  ahout  any  thina^  in  all  the  time  that  1  have 
preached.     But,  after  much  discouragement,  I  determined 
to  make  another  eftbrt,  and  both  to  explain  my  sentiments  to 
the  congregation  and  to  appeal  to  the  public.     I  therefore 
wrote,  preached,  and  published  the  sermon  I  send  you:  and,. 
I  bless  God,  it  seems  far  to  exceed  my  most  sanguine  expect- 
ations of  success.     Misrepresentation   seems  silenced  and 
prejudices  diminished;  the  congregation  increases;  a  spirit 
of  inquiry  appears  to  be  excited;  many  confess  that  they  did 
not  well  understand  the  matter,  and  that  there  is  a  necessity 
for  more  practical  preaching.     So  that  I  trust   all   thing* 
shall  tend  to  the  furtherance  of  the  gospel,  and  to  diffuse 
more  widely,  than  my  preaching  extends,  those   views  of 
Christianity,  which  I  have  delivered  and  you  received  in 
your  neighborhood 1  have  nothing  to  add  to  the  exhorta- 
tions I  have  so   often  given,  but  my  prayers  that  you  may 
abound  more  and  more.     The  notion  of  religion  goes  down 
very  well,  but  the  devil  and  the  world  hate  the  power  of  itr 
therefore  we  ought  to  love  it.     Give  my  love  to  all  your 
family,  and  to  all  the  dear  people,  along  with  the  sermons." 
"January  25,  1787.     We  thank  you  for  your  present  and 
your  letter.     The  former  was  acceptable,  the  latter  more 
so;  for  it  reminded  me  of  former  times,  and  revived  the 
assurance,  that,  however  the  doctrine  I  deliver  may  be  re- 
viled and  shghted,  it  is  indisputably  that  doctrine,  which 
is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation;  as  the  lives  of  many  in 
your  neighborhood  do  testify.     If  I  should  exhort  you  all 
to  go  forward,  and  abound  more  and  more  in  every  good 
word  and  work;  I  doubt  not  that  you  would  in  return  exhort 
and  incite  mo  to  do  the  same;  and,  notwithstanding  all  op- 
position, and  regardless  of  all  consequences,  to  preach  to 
all  around  the  same  truths  which  you  have  heard,  received, 
feel,  shew  the  effects  of,  and  rejoice  in.     I  trust  the  Lord 
will  enable  us  all  thus  to  do.     But  it  is  grievous  to  think  to 
what  a  degree  the  blessed  gospel  is  abused  and  corrupted, 
where  it  is  not  openly  opposed  or  neglected;  and  what  nun>- 
bers  are  willing  to  hear  a  part  ef  the  truth,  who  will  not 
hear  the  whole  of  it.     The  time  is  lamentably  come,  when 
numbers  will  not  endure  sound  doctrine,  but  turn  away  their 
ears  from  the  truth,  and  are  turned  unto  fables.     However, 
I  have  reason  to  think,  that  neither  my  preaching  nor  pub- 
lishing shall  be  in  vain. — We  have  numbers  of  such  profes- 
sors as  Olney  abounds  with:  but  we  have  a  remnant  of  aa- 


178  TROM  QUITTIJVG  OLNEY  TO       [Chap.  IX. 

other  sort;  and  I  trust  they  are  increasing"  even  at  the 
Lock.  The  post  is  very  difficult  and  precarious,  but  I  trust 
that  it  will  all  issue  well.  1  have  need  of  much  prudence, 
patience,  meekness,  and  courage;  and  therefore  you  have 
need  to  pray  much  for  me." 

"June  28,  1787.  My  journey  (into  Buckinghamshire) 
was  very  encouraging  and  establishing  to  myself,  and  I  hope 
to  others  also.  I  pray  God  the  seed  sown  may  spring  up 
abundantly,  and  appear  evidently  in  the  lives  of  believers, 
and  in  the  conversion  of  sinners.  But,  when  I  got  home, 
J  began  again  to  struggle  with  my  difficulties,  and  seem  to  ' 
have  got  into  another  world,  amongst  another  species  of 
creatures;  religion  seems  such  a  different  thing  amongst 
them.  Yet  I  cannot  but  hope  that,  in  process  of  time,  the 
same  eifects  will  follow  as  have  in  your  neighborhood.  But 
I  am  often  discouraged,  and  ready  to  think  I  shall  never  be 
able  to  keep  my  post,  or  do  any  good  in  it.  Then  again 
I  am  encouraged:  and  all  this  is  to  teach  me,  that  the  help 
that  is  done  on  earthy  the  Lord  doeth  it  himself. — Upon  the 
whole,  every  thing  concurs  to  satisfy  me  that  I  am  in  my 
pToper  place,  and  doing'  my  Master's  work,  and  preaching 
the  truth  of  God,  (though  often  with  much  mixture  of  hu- 
man infirmity;)  and  that  it  is  exceedingly  wanted  here,  and 
that  nothing  else  can  rectify  the  disorders  which  prevail: 
and  therefore,  if  this  doctrine  cannot  obtain  a  hearing,  or 
doth  not  produce  an  effect,  true  religion  must  be  extin- 
guished in  the  congregation.  But  indeed  London  is  such  a 
mass  of  wickedness,  and  even  religion  is  here  such  a  super- 
ficial slight  matter,  so  very  yielding  and  worldly,  that  every 
thing  1  see  and  hear,  as  well  as  what  I  feel,  is  grievous. 
When  I  look  into  the  Bible,  and  view  the  religion  therein 
contained,  it  is  so  pure,  so  beautiful,  so  divine,  that  I  long 
to  see  its  counterpart  on  earth:  but,  when  I  look  for  it  in 
this  and  the  other  church,  or  denomination  of  Christians,  I 
seem  to  find  nothing  like  it;  but  its  opposite:  hatred  instead 
of  love,  pride  instead  of  humility,  contention  instead  of 
peace,  worldly-mindedness  instead  of  heavenly  affections, 
and  dissimulation  instead  of  sincerity.  Yet  there  is  even  at 
this  time  a  remnant  according  to  the  election  of  grace.,  and 
many  more  than  the  eye  of  man  can  discover.  God  saw 
seven  thousand  in  Israel,  where  Elijah  could  not  fitid  one. 
This  is  a  consolation;  as  is  also  that  promise  to  those  who 
sigh  and  mourn  over  prevailing  abominations,  though  they 
fj^anot  cure  them.     And,  if  there   are  so  iew  true  Chris- 


1785—8.]     COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.     179 

tians,  what  thanks  are  due  to  the  Lord  if  we  are  such,  who 
are  by  nature  no  better  than  others!  What  diligence  in 
making*  our  calling  and  election  sure;  what  activity  in  doing 
good;  and  what  patience  in  tribulation,  rejoicing  in  hope, 
and  fervency  in  prayer;  ought  we  not  to  aim  at!  And  how 
welcome  will  a  world  of  perfect  purity  and  love  be  at  last!.... 
We  shall  be  happy  to  see  you  when  convenient.  Mrs.  S. 
joins  me  in  love  to  you  all.  My  love  to  every  branch  of 
your  family:  the  Lord  make  them  all  branches  of  his  fam- 
ily! My  love  to  all  the  people  and  inquiring  friends.  Tell 
them  to  love  one  another,  and  pray  for  themselves  and  each 
other,  and  for  me!  With  sincere  affection  and  prayers  for 
you,  I  remain  your  friend  and  servant, 

T.  Scott." 

The  following  belong  to  a  later  period,  but  they  may 
be  introduced  here  to  finish  at  once  my  extracts  from  this 
series  of  letters. 

April  7,  1788,  he  proposes  to  send  "one  or  two"  out  of 
his  twenty-five  copies  of  his  Bible,  for  the  perusal  of  the 
poorer  people,  who  cannot  afford  to  purchase  it. 

"September  9,  1794.  I  am  too  much  engaged  in  dis- 
charging the  large  debt,  in  which  Mr.  R.'s  failure  has  in- 
volved me,  to  be  able  to  send  money  (as  I  otherwise  meant 
to  have  done,)  to  help  my  poor  brethren,  or  rather  chil- 
dren, in  Ravenstone  and  the  neighboring  places:  but,  hav- 
ing finished  my  Essays,  I  have  sent  twelve  copies  to  be 
sold,  and  the  money  given  away.. ..Should  they  speedily  go 
off,  I  shall  be  glad  hereafter  to  follow  them  with  a  similar 
present;  wishing  that  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  shew  my 
sincere  affection  in  a  more  effectual  way.. ..I  beg  all  who 
regard  my  opinion  to  do  nothing  hastily,  or  without  much 
previous  prayer;  not  to  listen  to  those  persons,  who  will 
probably  attempt  to  make  divisions  or  proselytes,  pretend- 
ing zeal  for  some  important  doctrines;  and  to  endeavor,  ag 
much  as  possible,  to  keep  united  as  one  body,  waiting  io 
see  what  the  event  may  be  of  these  changes;  which  per- 
haps cannot  at  present  be  well  known." 

"July  2,  1795.  1  he  very  high  price  of  bread  and  other 
provisions,  continually  reminds  me  of  my  poor  people  at 
Ravenstone,  &;c.  in  respect  of  their  temporal  provision.  I 
have  not  indeed  much  in  my  power,  but  the  Lord  gives  me 
plenty  of  things  necessary;  and  1  think  it  my  duty  at  such  a 
time  as  this,  rather  to  exceed  ordinary  rules  in  helping  oth- 


180  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO         [Chap.  IX. 

ers,  especially  the  houseJi  old  of  faith:  and  none  have  so  good 
claim  on  me,  as  those  whom  1  look  on  as  my  children  in 
the;  gospel,  and  who  I  trust  will  be  my  crown  of  rejoicing  in 
the  day  of  Christ.''' — He  sends  three  guineas,  and  proceeds: 
*4  wish  I  could  do  any  thing  more  effectual  to  relieve  the 
pressmg  necessities  of  a  people  ever  dear  to  my  heart:  but 
I  hope  they  will  trusi  m  the  Lord  both  for  temporal  and 
•spiritual  things,  and  that  more  entirely  in  times  of  trouble. 
1  recommend  the  sixty-second  psalm  to  their  consideration 
at  this  time,  and  the  thirty-seventh.  Give  mv  love  to  them 
all." 

February  14,  1799  As  the  Lord  hath  in  pecuniary  mat- 
ters been  very  kind  to  me,  in  an  emergency  when  I  w  as  led 
to  expect  great  difliculties,  1  think  it  my  duty  to  make  some 
acknowledgment,  by  contributing  a  little  to  the  relief  of 
such  of  my  brethren  as  are  in  poor  circumstances."  He  sends 
therefore  two  guineas.  .  .  ''•My  heart  is  very  much  with 
you,  and  I  do  not  always  forget  to  pray  for  you  all:  but  in 
this,  and  all  other  good  things  1  am  too  apt  to  be  negli- 
gent." 

One  more  series  of  letters,  from  which  I  shall  give  a  few 
extracts  in  this  place,  presents  my  father  in  an  interesting 
connexion  with  the  British  and  i'oreign  Bible  Society:  not 
indeed  with  its  actual  formation,  (which  was  so  many  years 
posterior  to  this  time,)  but  ^vitii  the  preceding  events  which 
led  the  way  to  it.  As  the  histonan  of  that  Society  remarks, 
"The  primary  occasion  of  all  those  measures,  out  of  whiCh 
grew  the  institution  of  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  So- 
ciety, was  the  scarcity  of  Welsh  Bioles  in  the  Principality, 
and  the  impracticability  of  obtaining  adequate  supplies  from 
the  only  source  existing  at  that  period,  whence  copies  of 
the  authorized  version  were  to  be  derived."  Accordingly 
his  history  commences  with  a  correspondence,  in  the  year 
1787,  between  a  clergyman  in  London,  and  a  brother  cler- 
gyman in  Wales,  which  tirst  brought  the  existing  scarcity 
into  notice  in  England.  This  London  clergyman  was  my  fa- 
ther. Mr.  Owen's  first  extract  is  ir-om  a  letter  of  his,  dated 
May  15,  1787,  w^iich,  itwillbe  seen,  impUesa  prior  commu- 
nication from  Wales.  That  communication  is  in  my  hands, 
having  accidentally  escaped  the  destruction  to  which  my 
father  consigned  nearly  all  the  letters  in  his  possession, 
previously  to  his  last  illness:  and  it  enables  me  to  carry 
back  the  history  of  these  events  one  step  further  than  Mr.  O. 
fcas  done.     It  is  dated  March  241h,  and  refers  to  a  still  ear- 


1785—8.]    COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.     181 

lier,  indeed  a  first  proposal  from  my  father.  The  fact,  in 
short,  was  this:  in  soliciting  subscriptions  from  his  friends 
in  aid  of  some  benevolent  desig-ns  which  his  correspondent 
was  carrying  on  in  Wales,  my  father  called,  among  others, 
on  the  late  William  Daw,  Esq.  of  Brompton  Row,  who  said, 
'I  have  a  few  Welsh  Bibles  by  me' — or,  4  could  procure 
some'  from  what  is  now  denominated  the  Naval  and  MiUtary 
Bible  Society:  -would  they  be  of  use  to  your  friend?'  in 
consequence  he  proposed  the  question,  and  the  reply  was 
as  follows — probably  the  first  expression  of  urgent  want 
which  was  conveyed  to  London. 

March  24,  1787.  You  ask  me,  'whether  a  parcel  of 
Welsh  Bibles  would  be  acceptable.'  You  could  think  of 
nothing  more  acceptable,  more  wanted,  and  useful  to  the 
country  at  large.  I  have  been  often,  in  my  journeys  through 
different  parts  of  the  country,  questioned  whether  I  knew 
where  a  Welsh  Bible  could  be  bought  for  a  small  price;  and 
it  has  hurt  my  mind  much  to  be  obliged  to  answer  in  the 
negative.  There  are  none  to  be  bought  for  money,  unless 
some  poor  person,  pinched  by  poverty,  is  obliged  to  soil  his 
Bible  to  support  himself  and  family.  Mr.  Williams's  Bibles, 
with  notes,  are  some  of  them  unsold;  but  the  price,  18*.,  is 
loo  high  for  the  poor  to  command.  If  you  can  procure  a 
parcel  of  them  for  our  poor  people,  I  am  sure  you  will 
much  rejoice  the  hearts  of  many,  and  do  them,  by  the  bles- 
sing of  God,  great  good.  I  will  promise  to  dispose  of  them 
in  the  best  manner  I  am  able;  and  I  think  I  could  dispose 
to  very  good  purpose,  and  make  profitable  use,  of  any  quan- 
tity you  could  procure  for  me." 

Upon  this  followed  those  letters  of  my  fiither's  from 
which  I  shall  now  give  extracts. 

"May  15,  1787.  Dear  Sir,  I  received  your  acceptable 
letter,  which  made  my  heart  rejoice,  and  caused  me  to 
render  unfeigned  thanks  to  God  in  your  behalf,  and  the  peo- 
ple in  your  neighborhood;  and  to  pray  for  a  still  further  bles- 
sing upon  your  labors,  and  those  of  your  brethren.  May  the 
work  of  God  both  sink  deeper,  and  spread  wider,  till,  like 
the  leaven,  it  leaven  the  whole  lump!  I  have  shewn  your  let- 
ter to  several,  and  1  trust  it  affected  and  influenced  them  in 
the  same  manner;  and  also  in  another — ^or  silver  and  gold 
I  have  none  to  give;  but  my  friends  have.  In  consequence 
of  what  you  write  concerning  the  scarcity  of  Welsh  Bibles, 
I  have  received  twenty-five  from  the  Society  for  distributing 
Bibles  among  the  soldiers  and  sailors. ....  and,  if  they  ap- 
16  ■ 


182         FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  TO         [Chap.  IX. 

prove  of  your  disposal  of  them,  they  will  send  you  some 
more.  Besides  this,  I  am  collecting  money  to  send  you  a 
hundred.     1  have  had  assistance  from  Mr.  Thornton  in  this, 

and  prohably  shall  have  more I  trust  this  will  be  an 

acceptable  present,  and  a  seasonable  supply;  and  1  hope 
many  prayers  will  be  offered  up  in  Welsh  for  my  friends 
and  myself,  which  is  the  only  recompense  we  desire,  and 
which  we  shall  highly  value." 

He  mentions  the  Lock  Asylum,  then  forming",  and  adds: 
"Pray  for  a  blessing  upon  this  and  all  other  attempts  of  your 
poor  brethren  in  London:  and,  though  we  are  so  distant  in 
situation,  yet,  being  all  engaged  in  one  warfare,  under  one 
captain,  against  one  common  enemy,  we  may  be  helpful 
to  one  another  by  prayers,  exhortations,  and  encourage- 
ments. Let  us,  therefore,  endeavor  to  keep  up  the  com- 
munion of  saints;  and  may  the  Lord  give  us  wisdom,  holi- 
ness, faithfulness,  and  usefulness,  and  at  length  receive  us 
with.  Well  done^  good  a7id  faithful  servants!  Your  affection- 
ate brother  in  Christ,  T.  ScoiT." 

June  11,  1787,  he  states  that  he  has  sent  the  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  Bibles  altogether;  and  that  the  Asylum  is 
opened. — ^'I  am  surrounded,"  he  says,  "daily  with  pretty 
much  the  same  sort  of  company  that  my  Master  was,  Luke 
XV,  I.  The  Lord  grant  that  I  may  behave  among  them  in 
some  good  measure  as  he  did,  and  speak  to  them  with  the 
same  success!  Most  people  here  are  very  unbelieving  about 
it,  and  think  no  good  can  be  done:  but  I  am  enabled  to  ex- 
pect great  things  from  the  power,  mercy,  and  love  of 
Christ.  1  would  believe^  and  hope  to  see  the  glory  of  God  in 
their  conversion.  Indeed  I  do  see  some  good  fruits;  and, 
though  there  are  many  disappointments,  and  I  am  often 
ready  to  be  discouraged,  yet  upon  the  whole  1  think  I  may 
confidently  say,  good  is  done:  and,  if  God  help  me  to  perse- 
vere, and  neither  faint  in,  nor  grow  weary  of,  nor  act  in- 
consistently with,  my  work  and  office,  1  trust  I  may  expect  a 
good  harvest  at  last. — We  have  raised  money  enough  to 
begin  with,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  have  temptations  to  any 
thing  interested  or  extravagant.  At  present  I  have  refused 
to  have  any  recompence  for  my  trouble,  till  the  experiment  be 
tried,  at  least;  and  I  hope  others  also,  will  be  as  disinterested 
as  they  can.  I  would  not  have  any  thing  to  depend  ©n  but 
God's  providence  and  promise.  We  want  nothing  so  much 
as  the  pouring  out  of  the  Holy  Spirit  for  their  conversion; 
and  all  the  rest  will  be  provided  for  in  the  Lord's  time. 


i785— 8.]    COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY,      183 

"¥"00  rather  misapprehend  my  situation,  in  supposing 
that  I  have  multiplied  opportunities  o^  preaching.  For 
my  great  benefit,  I  am  left  with  something  about  me  which 
is  very  unacceptable  among  most  of  the  professors  of  relig- 
ion. Some  things  requisite  for  popularity  I  would  not  have, 
if  I  could;  and  others  I  could  nrA  have,  if  I  would.  This, 
together  with  some  suspicions  concerning  the  exactness  of 
my  orlhodox3%  in  the  point  of  election,  renders  even  those, 
who  love  ms  the  best,  shy  of  asking  me  to  preach.  But  I 
feel  it  is  needful  and  useful  to  me,  and  1  submit  to  it,  and 
am  thankful  for  it;  for  my  proud  heart  could  never  have 
borne  popularity  properly:  indeed  few  do. — I  trust  I  am  in 
some  degree  useiul.  I  do  the  work  allotted  mc  with  up- 
rightuess,  though  with  many  blunders;  should  be  willing  to 
do  more,  if  called  to  it;  and  would  be  submissively  out  of 
emplo}',  if  the  Lord  appoints  that  for  me. — My  heart  is  with 
you.  I  pray  God  to  prosper  you  in  your  extensive  sphere, 
and  make  you  long  a  burtiing  and  shining  light — a  useful 
preacher  of,  and  a  bright  ornament  to  the  gospel.  Beg- 
ging an  interest  in  your  prayers,  I  remain  your  affectionate 
I'riend  and  brother,  Thos.  Scott." 

January  12,  1788,  he  mentions  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
procuring  more  Bibles. — '4  have  got  upon  a  new  scent, 
but  knovv  not  how  I  shall  succeed.  If  we  should  have  op- 
portunity of  buying  a  quantity,  how  many  dare  you  engage 
for? — You  need  not  doubt  my  willingness  to  serve  you  or 
yonr  people:  but  at  times  a  man's  strength  is  to  sit  stilly  and 
wait  a  convenient  season.  But,  as  far  as  I  can  with  propri- 
ety procure  either  the  sale  or  gift  of  Welsh  Bibles,  I  shall 
count  it  my  privilege  to  send  them. 

•■'I  am  myself  very  busy,  very  unpopular,  and  a  little  use- 
ful. 1  hope  to  see  greater  things.  Religion  of  a  certain 
stamp  is  very  fashionable  in  town,  and  I  get  much  displeas- 
ure for  opposing  fashionable  religion:  but  1  trust  God  is  with 
me,  and  that  there  is  an  increasing  number  of  helpers." 

April  30,  1788.  There  had  been^'a  prospect  of  obtain- 
ing, through  the  assistance  of  another  society,  and  with  the 
help  of  Mr.  Thornton's  purse,  no  less  a  number  than  a 
thousand  Wesh  Bibles:  but,  alas!"  he  says,  '4  have  only 
waited  for  a  disappointment."  He  has,  however,  the  pros- 
pect of  a  few.  "I  should  have  been  more  sorry,"  he  adds, 
^'at  the  disappointment,  did  I  not  know  that  it  could  not 
have  taken  place  unless  the  Lord  had  had  wise  reasons  for 
permitting  it?" 


184  COMMENTARY  ON  [Chap.  X. 

"February  24,  1789.  If  no  unexpected  hindrance  arises, 
you  will  receive,  as  soon  as  they  can  be  got  ready  and  sent, 
another  cargo  of  Bibles,  one  hundred  to  give  away,  at  Mr. 
Thornton's  expense,  and  the  other  two  or  three  hundred 
to  sell.  ...  I  believe  that  the  whole  impression  of  Welsh 
Bibles  is  now  nearly  exhausted;  and  I  would  be  thankful 
that  the  Lord  has  made  me,  almost  without  any  thought  of 
it,  an  instrument  of  bringing  a  considerable  number  out  of 
the  warehouses,  to  be  disseminated  where  they  were 
wanted." 

October  19,  1792.  A  further  supply  of  Bibles  had  been 
procured  through  another  friend,  and  he  says,  "I  trust  that 
the  Lord,  who  hath  put  it  into  the  hearts  of  so  many  in 
Wales  to  love  bis  holy  word,  will  also  put  it  into  the  hearts 
of  their  more  wealthy  brethren  in  England  to  use  effectual 
methods  of  supplying  them  with  Bibles.  I  have  no  counsel 
to  offer;  but  am  ready  to  be  active  in  the  good  service  in  any 
way  I  can. — I  rejoice  to  hear,  that  your  people  go  on  well, 
and  are  a  comfort  to  you:  and  I  think  I  do  feel  more  will- 
ingness than  formerly,  that  others  should  have  the  satisfac- 
tion of  enlarged  usefulness,  and  I  the  mortification  of  much 
disappointment  in  that  respect." 

Letters  of  a  later  date  announce  the  new  edition  of  the 
Welsh  Bible  in  1799,  consisting  often  thousand  Bibles,  and 
two  thousand  additional  copies  of  the  New  Testament;  out 
of  which  he  appears  to  have  procured  eight  or  nine  hundred 
copies  of  the  whole  Bible;  and  the  correspondence  closes, 
May  3,  1800,  with  observing,  ''The  demand  has  already  so 
far  exceeded  the  impression,  that  each  person  is  put  off  with 
fewer  than  he  applied  for,  and  thought  he  had  secured." 


CHAPTER  t. 

HIS    COMMENTAiiy    ON    THE    SCRIPTURES DEATH    OF    MRS.    SCOTT. 

"As  I  had  read  over  the  whole  scripture  repeatedly,  I 
trust  with  constant  prayer,  and  considering  how  almost 
every  verse  might  be  appHed,  as  if  I  had  been  called  to 
preach  upon  it;  I  had  often  thought  that  I  should  like  to 
preach  through  the  Bible:  for  instruction  from  every  part 
crowded  upon  my  mind,  as  I  read  and  meditated  from  day 
to  day.     While  I  was  in  this  frame  of  raiqd,  a  proposal  was 


1788—1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  18S 

made  to  me  to  write  notes  on  the  scriptures,  to  be  pul> 
lished,  with  the  sacred  text,  in  weekly  numbers.  On  this 
proposal,  I  consulted  some,  who,  as  I  understood,  well  knew 
the  persons  making  it,  and  were  themselves  respectable 
characters.  I  also  consulted  my  own  friends,  and  certainly 
made  it,  tor  some  time,  a  constant  part  of  my  prayers  to  be 
directed  aright  concerning  it:  but  I  am  convinced  that  I  did 
not  deliberate,  consult,  and  pray,  so  long  as  I  should  have 
done;  that  I  was  too  hasty  in  determining;  and  that  a  great 
mixture  of  self-confidence,  and  presumption  of  competency 
for  an  undertaking,  which,  if  not  already  executed,  I  should 
at  present  tremble  to  think  of,  combined  with  my  desire  of 
being  usefully  employed.  1  had  hardly  an  idea  of  the  ardu- 
ousness  of  the  work,  and  of  the  various  kinds  of  talent  and 
knowledge  which  it  required;  of  most  of  which  I  was  at 
that  time  destitute.  My  inclination  biassed  my  judgment. — 
1  must  also  own,  that  a  guinea  a  week,  with  some  collateral 
advantages,  which  1  was  to  receive,  promised  to  be  no  un- 
acceptable addition  to  m}'  scanty  income;  while  twenty-iiv^ 
gratuitous  copies  of  the  work  would  prove  a  useful  present 
to  my  different  relations;  tp  which  purpose  1  actually  appli- 
ed them. — It  was  also  a  gratification  to  my  active  mmd, 
that  the  proposed  work  would  give  me  full  employment; 
which  I  most  of  alJ  desired. 

'^It  never,  1  own,  occurred  to  me  at  this  time,  that  any 
man  would  undertake  a  publication,  which  must,  at  the 
lowest  computation,  cost  2,000/.,  or  3,000/,;  and  whix:h 
would  require  35/.  to  be  paid  down  every  week;  relying 
entirely  on  the  sale  of  an  incipient  work  of  an  obscure  au- 
thor to  carry  him  through  it!  This  proved  that  I  knew  lit- 
tle of  the  world:  for  such  presently  appeared  to  be  the  sit- 
uation of  the  projector.  Yet  none  of  my  friends  cautioned 
me  on  this  ground. 

"AfteP  having  proceeded  so  far  as  to  have,  beyond  ex- 
pectation, the  most  encouraging  prospects  of  public  accept- 
ance; and  having  become  more  and  more  enthusiastically 
fond  of  the  em{)loyment;  I  learned,  when  fifteen  numbers 
had  been  printed,  that,  unless  money  could  be  procured 
from  my  friends,  the  design  must  be  abandoned.  The  pre- 
tence, indeed,  was,  that  I  was  likely  to  exceed  the  limits 
proposed,  of  one  hundred,  aflerwnrds  extended  to  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty,  numbers:  but  it  was  manifest,  both  from 
the  early  period  of  the  complaint,  and  still  more  by  the 
event,  that  the  money  and  credit  of  the  publishers  were 
*16 


JOG  COMMENTARY  ON  [Chap.  X. 

tixbausteti. — In  llje'^e  circumstances,  I  conlJ  not  bear  to  think 
ot"  (Jroi}piug'  so  promising'  a  desigii;  and  1  had  not  courage 
to  venture  on  executing  it  on  my  own  account:  though  liberal 
offers  of  pecuniary  assistance  were  made  me  I'or  that  pur- 
pose. The  best  object  <»i" my  undertaking  has  been  answer- 
ed f;ir  beyond  my  hoj)es:  but  I  stumbled  on  the  worst  plan, 
as  to  secular  matters,  that  could  have  been  adopted;  and 
my  vexations,  am]  distresses,  and  losses,  have  been  a  mer- 
cii"uL  yet  paini'ui  correction  of  my  rashness,  presumption, 
and  i'oily. 

"It  is  not  worth  while  to  detail  the  particulars  of  my 
perplexities,  and  tempoj-ary  resources,  and  renewed  diili- 
culties,  and  new  plans;  or  of  the  debts  which  I  contracted, 
in  order  to  support  the  sinking  creiUt  of  the  publisher, — for 
one  person  only  now  sustained  tltat  ciiaracter,  the  otiier 
liaviivg'  speedily  seceded.  Suffice  it  to  sny,  that,  by  the 
lielji  of  friends,  and  by  sinking  some  legacies  which  came 
to  me,  I  supported  him  to  the  close;  tnough  the  exjience 
far  exceeded  calculation,  and  indeed  what  would  have  been 
the  amount  in  the  hands  of  a  pn4dent  and  solvent  publisher.'' 

The  cost  of  the  tirst  edition  (amounting  to  three  thousand 
copies!)  was  not  less,  1  believe,  than  6,00U/.  or  7,00u/, 
The  publisher  reckoned  it  at  10,000/.  or  1 1,000/. 

'•'•  rhe  work  extended,  indeed,  much  beyond  its  proposed 
limits,  feachmg  to  one  hundred  and  seventy-four  numbers 
instead  ot  one  hundred  and  forty,  to  which  it  had  been  lixed: 
but  all  beyond  the  one  hundred  anri  I'oi'ly  numbers  I  printed 
at  my  own  expence  and  risque;  and  all  beyond  one  hundred 
and  sixty-ix)ur  1  actually  §-at)e  a^jaii  to  all  purchasers  of  the 
■*vork  wlio  Avould  accept  them;  though  tiiat  portion  cost  me 
much  above  200/. 

'•'•At  the  close  1  calculated,  in  the  most  tavorable  manner, 
my  ewn  pecmiiary  concern  in  the  work:  and  the  result  was, 
lirat,  as  nearly  as  I  could  ascertain,  1  had  ne/iher  gained 
nor  lost,  but  had  performed  the  wLoie  for  nothing.  As  far 
as  i  had  hoped  for  some  addition  to  my  income,  I  was  com- 
pietel}'  disappointed:  but,  as  providence  otherwise  support- 
ed my  family,  and  upheld  my  credit,  I  felt  well  satisiied;  and 
even  rejoiced  in  having  labored,  often  far  beyond  what  my 
Ijealth  and  spirits  could  well  endui"e,  in  a  work  which  had 
been  pleasani  and  proiitabie  to  me,  and  which  I  hoped  would 
prove  useful  to  otherg. 

"■But.  ala«!  much  beyond  my  expectation,  my  pecuniary 
diflic allies  were  only  commenchig,  instead  of  having  come 


1788—1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  187 

to  a  close.  Besides  printing,  as  has  been  already  stated,  all 
the  latter  part  of  the  work  (Irorn  the  beginning  of  St.  Luke,) 
on  my  own  account,  1  had  advanced  the  publisher  more  than 
800/. — a  sum  which  far  exceeded  all  that  i  was  worth. 
Still,  as  the  copy-right  (which  is  in  such  cases  usually  made 
the  publisher's,)  had  been  mortgaged,  or  conditionally  re- 
sold, to  me  for  security  of  this  money,  1  thought  myself 
safe. — Moreover,  as  the  work  was  now  finished,  and  sold 
well,  and  the  publisher  had  for  some  months  been  exempt- 
ed from  all  outgoings  on  account  of  it;  I  had  little  fear  of 
his  being  unable  to  stand  his  ground:  and  hence  I  increased 
my  actual  loss,  which  followed,  by  declining  to  receive 
some  money  that  I  might  have  had,  because  I  thought  a  near 
relation  of  his  ought  to  be  relieved  from  the  serious  em- 
barrassment in  which,  I  was  told,  he  had  involved  himself 
in  order  to  serve  him. 

"Even  my  more  sagacious  friends,  and  those  more  con- 
versant with  transactions  of  this  nature,  were  of  opinion 
that  the  publisher's  credit  was  so  low,  that  even  in  case  of 
failure,  his  debts  could  not  amount  to  any  large  sum;  but,  in^the 
event,  on  his  executing  a  deed  of  assignment  to  his  credit- 
ors, (within  five  months  after  the  Bible  was  completed,) 
claims  were  made  on  his  estate  to  the  amount  of  above 
10,0CK)Z.  Still,  however,  with  the  latter  part  of  the  work 
in  my  possession;  and  with  the  copj'-right  pledged  to  me, 
and  vested  in  me,  unless  redeemed  by  the  payment  of  all 
that  was  my  due;  it  appeared  to  me,  that  I  could  have 
come  in,  even  before  a  bill  of  sale,  (which  he  had  given,) 
and  have  secured  my  debt,  by  rendering  all  the  former  part 
of  the  work  of  little  value  without  my  concurrence.  A 
statute  of  bankruptcy  would  certainly  have  left  me  the 
copy-right,  and  the  concluding  part  of  the  work.  But  1 
feared  thus  to  secure  payment  in  full  to  myself,  while 
scarcely  any  thing  was  lel't  to  the  other  creditors,  would 
appear  a  dishonorable  transaction.  I  said,  4  can  go  on 
with  my  ministry  creditably,  if  I  lose  200/.  or  300/.;  but  if  I 
lose  my  character  for  integrity,  or  even  bring  it  into  suspi- 
cion, 1  cannot '  1  consented,  theretbre,  to  come  in  as  a 
creditor  under  a  deed  of  trust,  delivering  up  all  the  latter 
part  of  the  work  in  my  possession,  only  retaining  the  copy- 
right irredeemably. — At  first,  some  creditors  were  clamor- 
ous against  my  propoi^al:  but,  the  solicitor  employed,  soon 
shewing  them  their  mistake,  my  offer  was  acceded  to  unan* 


188  COMMENTARY  ON  [Chap.  X. 

imouslj:  'and,  at  the  close  of  the  business,  I  received  from 
the  whole  company  the  unavailing  compensation  of  thanks 
for  my  disinterestedness. 

"I  at  first  supposed,  as  I  believe  the  other  trustees  did, 
that  a  dividend  of  7*.  or  8,9.  in  the  pound  wouhl  be  obtain- 
ed: but  I  never  received  more  than  ]s.  2d.  in  the  pound  on 
my  840/.,  and  that  after  long  delays. 

''Thus  all  my  little  property,  arising  from  a  legacy  of 
IbOl.  from  a  relation,  another  of  100/.  from  John  Thorn- 
ton, Esq.,  and  some  others  of  smaller  amount  was  sunk  as  in 
a  vortex;  and  I  was  left  at  least  500/.  in  debt.  I  lost  full 
500/.  by  the  publication,  besides  all  my  labor,  and  200/. 
given  me  by  friends  in  consideration  of  what  had  occurred. 

"But  what  was  still  worse,  I  fell  into  discredit  as  to  the 
management  of  secular  affairs;  of  which  I  felt  the  effects 
in  rather  a  mortifying  manner  a  tew  years  after,  when  the 
trustees  determined  to  sell  off  all  the  residue  of  the  edition. 
This  1  could  have  purchased  for  420/.;  and  1  was  morally 
certain  that  it  would  produce  me  more  than  twice  that 
sum,  besides  precluding  all  questions  about  the  copy-right: 
but  I  could  not  raise  the  money.  At  least,  being  discour- 
aged by  those  liberal  friends  who  had  before  assisted  me,  I 
gave  it  up  in  despondencj^, — or  rather,  I  trust,  in  resigna- 
tion to  the  wil!  of  God;  though  aware  of  the  consequences, 
and  constantly  affirming,  that  the  loan  of  420/.  at  that  period 
would  serve  me  more  than  the  gift  of  500/.  a  year  after- 
wards. 

"The  whole  residue,  together  with  the  copper  plates, 
from  which  certain  prints  accompanying  the  work  had  been 
taken,  was  in  consequence  sold,  in  1798,  for  450/.,*  to  a 
person  who  purchased  it  with  permission  from  me  to  reprint 
as  much  as  forty-one  numbers,  to  complete  sets,  on  condition 
of  paying  me  an  acknowledgment  of  one  guinea  for  each 
number  reprinted.  This  condition,  however,  he  disregard- 
ed; and,  on  the  ground  of  possessing  the  copper  plates,  as- 
sumed a  liberty  of  printing  at  his  pleasure, — thus  virtually 
advancing  a  claim  to  the  copy-right.  No  bookseller  there- 
fore could  be  expected  to  engage  in  a  new  edition,  unless 
the  work  were  taken  entirely  out  of  this  purchaser's  hands: 

*  ^n  a  lett«  r  handed  to  me  since  this  sheet  was  at  the  press,  he 
says:  "l  wouUl  rather  have  given  IdOO/  could  I  hav."  I'aised  ;he  money, 
thVn  Itt  it  be  so  ri  sposed  of.  It  was  Ike  tlie  ex- cMiion  of  a  dear  friend: 
luo'ild  (loi  he  piesent!  and  I  h<l'(ve  the  other  trustees  did  not  take 
all  proper  precautions  for  my  secui  Liy.'* 


1788—1817.]       THE  SCRIPTURES.  189 

which  led  me,  about  a  year  afterwards,  to  inquire  the  terms 
on  which  he  would  part  with  what  yet  remained  unsold; 
when  he  demanded  9001  for  it,  though  he  acknowledged 
that  he  had  already  received  double  the  purchase  money, 
and  had  incurred  comparatively  little  ex  pence! 

'^These  circumstances,  however  unfavorable  to  my  tem- 
poral interests  at  the  time,  have  proved  a  most  important 
benefit  to  the  work.  Had  I  sold  it  to  the  booksellers,  as  I 
should  have  done,  could  I  have  secured  it  against  encroach- 
ment, without  having  recourse  to  Chancery;  I  could  hardly 
have  foiled  of  being  cramped  by  them,  as  to  the  expensive 
improvements  which  I  contemplated:  but,  retaining  it  in  my 
own  hands,  I  added,  in  a  new  edition,  fifty  sheets  to  the  com- 
ment at  an  expence  of  700/.;  besides  the  marginal  refer- 
ences, which  cost  more  than  1000/.  printing. 

"Many,  no  doubt,  have  wondered  what  could  induce  me 
to  involve  myself  in  pecuniary  transactions  to  the  extent  I 
have  done,  which  have  required  me  to  contract  debts  that 
I  have  not  yet  been  able  wholly  to  liquidate;  and  to  struggle 
with  difficulties  beyond  the  conception  of  most  persons,  and 
wholly  beside  my  inclination,  and  my  talent  and  turn  of 
mind.  This  may  appear  the  more  extraordinary,  after  I 
had  firmly  decHned  the  most  liberal  offers  of  assistance,  to 
enable  me  to  take  the  work  out  of  the  original  publisher's 
hands,  and  to  print  it  on  my  own  account, — on  the  ground 
that  this  would  so  occupy  my  mind  about  pecuniary  concerns, 
as  to  unfit  me  for  the  work  itself".  But  the  fact  was,  I  had 
now  no  other  alternative  left,  if  I  would  improve  the  first 
rough  sketch  of  a  work,  which  1  always  deemed  j,he  grand 
business  of  my  life,  i  must  either  leave  the  whole  to  be  re- 
printed by  the  person  above  referred  to,  sheet  by  sheet,  after 
the  old  edition,  according  as  one  number  or  another  might 
be  wanted;  or  I  must  have  recourse  to  Chancery — which  I 
greatly  dreaded;  or  I  must  print  on  my  own  account,  which 
1  knew  I  could  legally  do. — The  very  friends  also,  who  be- 
fore dechned  advancing  me  420/.,  now  offered  to  lend  me 
considerably  more;  and  some  others  concurred.  The 
booksellers  likewise  assured  me  that,  as  soon  as  the  work 
was  so  far  advanced  that  there  were  any  volumes  for. sale, 
it  would  pay  its  own  expences.  Thus  encouraged  1  ventur- 
ed to  undertake  it. 

"For  a  considerable  time  all  went  on  well  with  my  new 
edition.  The  sale  actually  answered  the  expenditure, 
though  that  was  little  short  of  1000/.  a  year:  and  it  appear- 


190  COMMENTARY  ON  [Chap.  X. 

ed  probable  that  a  profit  would  accrue  to  me  suflficient  to  re- 
imburse my  former  losses.  But  at  length  such  ao  enormous 
rise  took  place  in  the  price  of  paper,  attended  b3'  a  consider- 
able advance  in  the  charge  of  printing,  as,  together  with  the 
additions  I  made  to  the  work,  caused  my  estimates  to  turn 
out  nearly  1000/.  too  low;  and  the  sale  of  the  whole  edition 
jpcarcely  cleared  more  than  prime  cost.  Indeed  every  page 
1  added  increased  my  expence,  without  at  all  advancing  the 
price  of  the  book — which  had  been  fixed  from  the  first: 
and  I  actually  paid  at  the  rate  of  13/.  for  every  additional 
sheet,  for  the  privilege  of  improving  my  work. 

"To  conclude  this  subject  at  once.  1  have  been  flavored 
to  live  to  superintend  a  third  edition;  and  by  that-I  have 
fared  somewhat  better:  but,  except  the  sum  given  for  the 
copy-right  since  that  edilion  was  concluded,  I  certainly  have 
not  cleared  so  much  as  1000/.  for  the  labors  of  above 
twenty-one  years. — I  do  not,  however,  regret  this.  God 
has  provided  for  me  and  mine  very  graciously:  by  means  of 
this  publication  my  grand  design,  of  accomplishing  from  the 
press  what  I  found  myself  little  capable  of  eifecting  frona 
the  pulpit,  has  eventually  succeeded  beyond  my  expecta- 
tions: and  1  needed  my  trials  and  difficulties,  both  to  correct 
the  many  evils  connected  with  the  undertaking,  and  to 
counterbalance  any  flattering  circumstances  arising  out  of 
it." 

This  history  of  the  production  and  publication  of  my 
fathers  Commentary  on  the  Bible  was  written  in  the  year 
1812.  Early  in  the  following  year  all  the  transactions 
relative  to  it  were  brought  under  the  view  of  the  Court  of 
Chancery,  in  consequence  of  the  person  who  had  purchased 
the  residue  of  the  first  edition  asserting  a  claim  to  the  cop}^- 
right,  and  endeavoring  to  support  an  injunction  agamst  my 
father,  and  the  booksellers  to  whom  the  work  was  now  sold. 
The  injunction  was  in  the  first  instance  granted,  but  it  was 
immediately  dissolved  on  the  case  being  heard.  1  have,  in 
some  parts,  a  little  enlarged  and  cleared  up  the  narrative 
from  the  report  of  the  proceedings  on  that  occasion.  A 
friend,  present  in  court,  wrote  to  my  father  as  follows,  im- 
mediately after  the  decision:  ''The  Chancellor  went  into  all 
the  transactions  very  minutely  indeed;  in  the  course  of 
which  he  spoke  of  your  conduct,  as  author,  creditor,  trustee, 
and,  at  one  period,  proprietor  and  pubhsher  of  the  work,  in 
the  most  honorable  terms." — One  short  extract  from  the 
printed  report  may  be  given.     It  was  contended  by  counsel 


1788—1817.]         THE  SCRIPTURES.  191 

against  my  father,  that  one  of  the  agreements  into  which  he 
had  entered  with  the  original  pubUsher  was  "illegal,  as  being 
a  laical  dealings  contrary  to  the  canons:"  on  which  his  Lord- 
ship remarked,  in  giving  judgment,  "Whether  it  is  so  or  not, 
I  am  not  now  called  to  inquire;  but  I  think  I  am  not  going  far 
out  of  my  way  to  say,  that  the  laical  dealings  of  a  clergy- 
man can  never  be  less  the  subject  of  blame,  than  when  they 
consist  in  writing,  and  promotmg  the  circulation  of  explana- 
tory notes  on  the  Bible." 

Previously  to  this  decision,  besides  all  the  injury  he  had 
suffered  in  his  property,  my  father  and  his  publishers  were 
assailed  by  advertisements  and  placards,  strongly  reflecting 
upon  their  character  and  proceedings.  But  the  question 
was  now  finally  set  at  rest,  and  the  work  has  been  exposed 
to  no  subsequent  molestation. 

This  great  work  of  my  father's  life  was  begun  January 
2,  1788;  the  first  number  was  published  March  !t2,  follow- 
ing; and  the  last  copy  was  finished  for  the  press,  June  2, 
1 792:  during  which  period  the  whole  was  twice  written 
over  by  his  own  hand.  One  great  error  committed  was,  be- 
ginning to  publish  so  soon  after  entering  upon  the  composi- 
tion. This  caused  the  author  to  be  distressingly  hurried 
throughout  his  whole  progress.  Sick  or  well,  he  was 
obliged  to  complete  his  weekly  task;  except  as  in  some  few 
instances  he  was  compelled  to  plead  for  a  short  respite,  by 
the  suspension  of  the  publication.  I  have  actually  known 
him,  with  great  difficulty  and  suffering,  prepare  as  much 
copy  as  he  thought  would  complete  the  current  number, 
and  then,  when  he  had  retired  to  bed  and  taken  an  emetic, 
called  up  again  to  furnish  more,  what  he  had  provided  being 
insufficient  for  the  purpose!  It  is  needless  to  point  out  how 
injurious  to  a  work,  as  well  as  distressing  to  an  author, 
such  a  hurried  execution  must  be;  and  the  reader  will 
agree  with  me  in  thinking  it  surprising,  that  a  work,  so 
composed,  should  have  been  found  to  possess  such  intrinsic 
merit,  and  gain  such  acceptance  as  it  did,  even  in  its  most 
unimproved  state.  One  effect  was  perhaps  on  the  whole 
an  advantage — especially  as  any  disadvantages  accompany- 
ing it  have  been  removed  by  the  author's  subsequent  inde- 
fatigable labors — namely,  that  he  was  compelled,  in  the 
first  instance,  to  be  in  so  great  a  degree  original;  to  give 
the  result  of  his  own  reflections  almost  alone.  There 
was  little  time  to  consult^  much  less  to  transcribe  from 
other  authors. 


192  COMMENTARY  ON  [Chap.  X. 

Some  time  after  the  conclusion  of  the  work,  the  original 
pubUsher  actually  printed  all  the  correspondence  which  had 
passed  between  my  father  and  himself  during  its  progress; 
hoping  to  shew  that  he  was  injured,  and  perhaps  to  drive 
my  father  to  make  him  some  reparation:  but  I  believe  the 
pamphlet  completely  defeated  its  own  purpose,  with  all 
who  were  permitted  to  see  it  entire. 

On  the  whole  we  may  venture  to  assert,  that  all  the 
labor,  vexation,  and  distress  which  attended  this  work,  were 
such  as  never  will  nor  can  be  known.  But  it  was  to  answer 
important  ends:  and  great  troubles  generally  precede  great 
successes.  A  playful  sally  of  my  father's  mmd  may  explain 
the  view  which  he  took  of  his  situation,  while  the  work  was 
in  progress.  The  publisher  wished  that  the  author's  por- 
trait should  accompany  it:  'No,'  said  my  father,  'if  one  of 
us  appears,  we  will  both  appear  together, — upon  the  same 
jaded  horse,  in  the  middle  of  a  miry  lane,  in  which  it  may 
be  impossible  to  decide  whether  it  is  more  advisable  to 
push  forward,  or  to  attempt  a  return.' 

I  shall  now  present  the  reader  with  extracts  of  letters 
relating  to  the  times  and  subjects  of  this  chapter. 

To  the  Rev.  J.  Ryland,  June  1,  1789:  "My  engagements 
are  so  many,  and  my  embarrassments  have  been  so  great  of 
late,  that  1  have  not  been  able  to  get  on  as  I  ought.     My 

situation  is  difficult,  but  not  without  its  usefulness As  my 

coming  to  town  has  introduced  me  to  this  (the  publication  of 
the  Commentary,)  and  some  other  things  which  1  trust  will 
be  useful,  1  cannot  repent  of  coming:  but  I  much  question 
whether  1  can  keep  my  station  or  not.  I  have  made  a  bold 
march  into  an  enemy's  country;  and,  if  1  cannot  make  good 
my  ground,  1  hope  1  shall  be  able  to  make  an  honorable  re- 
treat. 1  trust  you  do  not  forget  to  pray  for  me,  for  1  much 
need  and  value  your  praj^ers."' 

To  the  same,  January  12,  1791. — The  following  extract 
relates  to  a  small  publication,  which,  hke  some  others, 
came  in,  as  by  a  parenthesis,  during  the  progress  of  the 
jgible. — "I  have  been  so  engaged  that  I  have  almost  killed 
myself  In  a  discourse  which  you  may  see  advertised,  oc- 
casioned by  the  death  of  Mr.  Thornton,  with  no  name  to  it, 
and  that  never  was  preached,  (on  2  Cor.  v,  14,  15,)  1  have 
had  a  considerable  hand;  and  it  has  cost  me  the  more 
trouble,  because  I  had  not  the  whole  direction  of  it;  though 
I  am  answerable  for  its  doctrines.  This,  added  to  my  other 
engagements,  has  made  me  more  than  work  enough,  and  I 


1788—1017.]         THE  SCRIPTURES.  193 

urn  not  well  at  present.  I  would  not  have  it  publicly  avowed 
that  I  am  the  author  of  the  above-mentioned  discourse,  till 
a  few  weeks  have  elapsed:  for  there  is  a  peculiar  aim  in  it, 

at  a  class  of  people  whom  my  name  would  prejudice..* I 

bless  God,  that  I  may  take  it  for  granted,  that  the  law  of  God^ 
and  not  the  carnal  mind,  and  its  powers  and  inclinations,  is 
the  rule  and  standard  of  man's  duty:  otherwise  I  could  not 
preach  or  write  without  shackles,  on  any  subject  whatever." 

The  discourse  here  referred  to,  was  composed  at  the  re- 
quest of  the  late  Henry  Thornton,  Esq.,  who  also  made 
several  contributions  towards  it.  The  reasons  which 
prompted  the  proposal  were  these:  Mr.  H.  T.  was  sensible 
that  many  persons  contemplated  the  character  and  proceed- 
ings of  his  late  father  with  astonishment,  and  many  even 
with  admiration,  who  had  no  just  conception  of  the  religious 
principles,  which  moved  him  to  a  course  of  conduct  so  un- 
like that  of  men  of  wealth  and  extensive  business  in  gen- 
eral; and  so  much  exceeding  the  ordinary  standard  even  of 
more  serious  and  pious  characters.  It  appeared  to  him, 
therefore,  very  desirable  to  explain  the  subject  to  such  per- 
sons; to  take  to  pieces,  so  to  speak,  the  machine  whose 
movements  surprised  them,  and  exhibit  the  secret  springs 
by  which  the  effect  was  produced. 

The  following  extract,  addressed  to  the  same  friend,  on 
finishing  the  Commentary,  will  not  fail  to  interest  those  who 
have  found  edification  in  the  perusal  of  the  work  itself. 

"June  26,  179:2.  I  have  had  my  hands  full,  and  my  heart 
too,  by  ~ — ""s  means,  and  am  not  likely  to  be  soon  rescued 
from  a  variety  of  concerns,  in  which  my  connexion  with 
him  in  this  publication  has  involved  me.  But  he  that  hath 
hitherto  helped  me  will,  I  trust,  extricate  me  from  all  re- 
maining difficulties:  and  it  was  needful  that  the  whole  pro- 
gress of  the  work  should  be  stamped  with  mortification, 
perplexity,  and  disappointment,  if  the  Lord  meant  me  to  do 
any  good  to  others  by  it,  and  to  preserve  me  from  receiv- 
ing essential  injury  in  my  own  soul.  Four  years,  five 
months,  and  one  day  were  employed  in  the  work,  with  un- 
known sorrow  and  vexation:  yet,  if  I  have  the  best  success 
in  the  sale  of  it,  1  can  expect  no  emolument  at  all,  except 
the  profit  on  the  sets  I  sell;  whereas  I  may  lose  considera- 
ble sums.  But  1  feel  quite  satisfied  on  that  head:  and,  if  any 
real  good  be  done  to  a  few  souls  by  means  of  the  whole,  I 
am  at  present  disposed  to  be  thankful,  even  though  I  should 
lose  both  money,  credit,  and  friends  by  means  of  it.  I  never 
17 


194  COMMENTARY  ON  [Chap.  X. 

thought  I  should  live  to  conclude  it;  and  it  seems  to  me  as 
a  dream  now  I  have,  and  I  can  scarcely  think  it  a  reaUtj'. 
Much  cause  for  thankfulness,  and  much  for  humiliation,  I 
see,  upon  the  review  of  the  whole  transaction.  1  meant 
well,  but  I  engaged  hastily,  and  made  many  egregious  blun- 
ders: yet  I  hope,  through  the  Lord's  goodness,  all  will  end 
well  I  do  not  think  that  my  health  is  injured  by  my  in- 
tense application;  but  my  spirits  are  surprisingly  broken: 
and,  whereas  I  used  to  rise  above  difficulties,  by  a  certain 
alacrity  and  stoutness  of  mind,  which  I  took  for  strong  faith 
and  much  patience,  I  am  now  ready  to  be  alarmed  and  de- 
jected on  every  occasion;  and  have  shed  more  tears  since  I 
began  this  work,  than  probably  I  did  in  all  the  former  years 
of  my  life." 

In  this  letter  he  mentions  preaching  twice  one  Sunday  at 
Margate.  These  sermons  were  productive,  in  one  respect, 
of  rather  a  singular  result.  In  consequence  of  the  absurd 
representations  of  them  which  were  made  to  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  the  curate  was  called  up  to  Lambeth.  Hav- 
ing procured,  however,  of  my  father,  written  sketches  of 
the  two  sermons,  which  he  submitted  to  his  Grace,  no 
jnore  was  heard  of  the  business. 

The  following  extracts  of  letters  to  his  elder  sister,  re- 
late to  his  pecuniary  losses  by  the  Bible,  and  his  state  of 
mind  under  them. 

"October  25,  1 792.  I  was  worth  nothing,  except  my 
furniture,  when  I  engaged  in  this  work,  (the  Commentary,) 
and  if,  after  some  bequests  made  to  me,  1  should  be 
in  the  same  case  when  it  is  done  with,  I  may,  and  I 
hope  I  shall  say.  The  Lord  gave^  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
av^ay-f  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord. — I  might  have  spent 
my  time  more  unpleasantly,  as  well  as  unprotitably,  than  in 
the  labor  1  have  had;  which,  in  some  respects,  has  been  its 
own  reward:  and,  if  any  human  being  gets  any  real  good 
by  it,  that  forms  an  additional  reason  for  my  being  satisfied 
and  thankful:  whilst  the  manifold  evil  that  has  connected 
with  the  whole  business  requires  forgiveness,  and  excludes 
all  idea  of  my  being  entitled  to  any  reward  from  the  Lordj 
and  I  must  be  very  ignorant  of  human  nature,  to  expect 
much  from  men  for  such  an  undertaking. — I"  thought  you 
would  wish  to  know  the  state  of  my  mind  under  what  may 
be  deemed  a  trial,  but  which  does  not  much  discompose  me. 
I  have  a  fair  prospect  of  paying  all  their  due,  and  that  sat- 
isfies me." 


1788—1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  195. 

In  1794  he  had  more  fully  ascertained  the  extent  of  his 
losses,  and  he  thus  writes: — 

''March  4.  If  I  said  that  I  was  sorry  I  had  written  so 
much  on  the  Bible,  I  own  it  was  my  infirmity:  but  I  do  not 
recollect  that  I  ever  expressed  myself  so  strongly;  though 
the  loss  of  all  my  little  property,  and  feeling  myself  en- 
cumbered with  a  debt  of  300/.  or  400/.,  without  any  thing 
to  pay  it  except  a  very  precarious  income,  did  try  me  for  a 
time  very  sharply.  But  1  am  now  quite  satisiied,  yea, 
thankful;  for  various  circumstances  more  and  more  convince 
me,  that  it  will  in  time  so  acquire  stability,  and  produce  dur- 
able good  effects,  that  I  am  aware  mortifications  by  the  way 
were  needful  for  me.  The  Lord  has  also  peculiarly  favor- 
ed me  this  year;  and  I  have  emerged  at  least  200/.  from 
my  depth  of  debt  within  about  fifteen  months.  One  friend 
made  me  a  present  of  100/.  towards  my  loss.  So  I  say,  Ax 
for  me,  /  am  poor  and  needy^  hut  the  Lord  careth  for  me: 
and  I  have  at  present  no  uneasiness  about  it." 

In  1798,  as  above  related,  the  residue  of  the  original 
edition  was  to  be  sold.  Having  stated  his  inability  to  raise 
4G0/.  for  the  purchase  of  it,  he  remarks:  "The  labor,  loss, 
and  disquietude,  have  been,  and  are  mine;  but  the  profit 
must  be  given  to  others.  Yet  I  doubt  not  this  is  ordered  ia 
wisdom,  faithfulness,  and  love." 

The  following  passages  relate  to  the  preparation  of  an 
entire  new  edition;  the  first  with  marginal  references.  They 
are  from  letters  addressed  to  myself. 

"March  14,  1798.  1  am  either  more  indolent  than  for- 
merly, or  1  do  not  stand  work  so  well.  I  feel  a  need  for  the 
petition  which  Mr.  Whitefield  often  made,  'that  the  Lord 
would  keep  me  from  growing  slack  in  the  latter  stages  of 
my  journey.' — I  every  day  however  correct  something  of 
the  Bible,  besides  preparing  the  Essays  for  republication, 
teaching,  &lc.;  and  I  feel  a  strong  desire,  by  some  means  or 
other,  if  I  am  spared,  to  have  the  publishing  of  it  in  my 
own  hand*,  when  a  new  edition  is  wanted;  which  will  prob- 
ably be  ere  long.  I  seem  to  think  I  could  make  great  im- 
provements: and  I  am  more  than  ever  convinced,  that  a 
Family  Bible,  which  gains  acceptance,  is  one  of  the  most 
effectual  vehicles  of  antidote  against  all  loose  views  of  the 
gospel,  that  can  be;  because  it  gets  into  the  families  of  per- 
sons who  have  any  seriousness,  even  where  public  teach- 
ings lean  to  antinomianism;  and  may  thus  greatly  counterr- 
act  the  effect*'* 


196  COMMENTARY  ON  [Chap  X. 

^'February  25,  1800.  I  am  very  closely  eng-aged  in  the 
business  of  preparing  a  new  edition  of  the  Family  Bible: 
indeed,  it  takes  as  much  mending,  thus  far,  as  it  did  writing." 

"March  3,  1800.  I  have  resumed  my  attention  to  the 
Hebrew,  and  read  every  part  in  that,  and  in  the  Greek; 
which  often  suggests  useful  hints  and  cautions.  But  revis* 
ing  the  references  in  Brown  (to  make  a  selection,  to  be  in- 
serted chiefly  at  the  end  of  each  note,)  is  the  great  labor 
statedly  occurring." 

Before  this  month  elapsed,  he  informed  me,  that  he  had 
"determined  to  have  a  selection  of  marginal  references." 

"October  29.  You  say  I  am  in  your  debt  as  a  corres- 
pondent; and  indeed  I  am  in  the  way  to  be  in  ever}'  one's 
debt,  in  this  respect  as  well  as  others;  and  here,  at  least,  to 
be  insolvent.  I  must  however  not  only  intreat,  but  demand^ 
to  be  dealt  with  on  other  terms  than  many  are,  as  I  am  do- 
ing a  GREAT  work,  at  least,  whether  a  good  one  or  not:  and 
I  find,  as  I  proceed,  so  much  wants  mending,  and  I  can  so 
little  satisfy  myself,  that  I  can  hardly  hope  to  satisfy  others. 
"I  work  very  hard,  and  yet  I  do  not  get  on  at  the  rate  of 
more  than  a  sheet  and  a  half  in  a  week;  and  do  not  finish 
any  one  chapter  according  to  the  ideal  completeness  which 
I  bad  framed  in  my  mind.  I  trust  the  work  has  thus  far 
been  improved  much:  and  I  still  flatter  mjself  with  the 
hope  of  getting  on  faster  presently,  and  of  reducing  some 
parts  into  a  narrower  compass:  but  this  has  not  hitherto 
been  the  case.  The  language  is  throughout  abridged;  but 
then  new  ideas  are  added.  .  .  I  do  not  think  any  of  you, 
that  make  remarks  on  the  diiTeront  parts  of  the  work,  can 
possibly  conceive  Avhat  it  is  to  keep  the  whole  in  view,  and 
to  finish  any  chapter  as  a  part  of  this  whole.  Had  I  known 
and  felt  this  formerly  as  I  now  do,  I  should  never  have  dar- 
ed to  engage  in  a  work,  for  which  every  day  makes  me 
more  and  more  feel  my  incompetency.  Yet,  as  it  has 
pleased  God  to  give  it  so  much  of  an  establishment,  I  must 
now  go  on,  and  do  what  I  can.  But  I  must  deprecate  criti- 
cism, especially  that  of  those  who  are  disposed  to  judge  of 
a  chapter  as  of  a  short  essay,  instead  of  considering  of  what 
a  vast  whole  it  forms  a  part. — I  am  however  very  glad  of 
your  observations,  sent  in  the  manner  they  have  lately  been. 
They  very  often  suggest  improvements  beyond  what  you, 
perhaps,  had  in  view.  .  .  Your  remarks  on  Leviticus  x. 
made  me,  at  least,  a  hard  day's  work:  and  yet  I  do  not  think 
you  will  be  satisfied  with  what  I  have  doi^e.     Here  espe- 


178S— 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  197 

cially  I  note  that  you  seem  to  have  forgoacn  how  I  wrote, 
sick  or  well,  in  spirits  or  out,  lively  or  dull:  the  tale  of  bricks 
must  be  deUvered.  I  agree  with  you,  that  great  points  give 
the  best  occasion  to  practical  observations;  but  that  is  when 
a  man  has  the  genius,  and  is  in  frame  to  improve  them:  and 
I  often  feel  a  sad  deticiency  in  both  respects.  Indeed,  my 
maturer  judgment  may  correct  and  improve  what  I  former- 
ly wrote;  but  I  verily  believe  I  am  now  incapable  of  writing, 
de  novo^  so  much  to  the  purpose,  and  so  rapidly,  as  1  then 
did.  I  would  however  query,  whether  leading  the  ordinary 
reader  from  verse  to  verse,  with  useful  observations,  though 
not  striking  to  persons  of  superior  cultivation,  may  not  be 
as  beneficial  in  teaching  him  to  think,  and  deduce  instruc- 
tion for  himself. — But  enough  of  this." 

The  close  of  this  passage  may  be  considered  as  the  au- 
thors reply  to  those  who  have  thought,  that  it  might  have 
been  an  advantage  had  the  Practical  Observations,  after  all 
particulars  had  been  explained  in  the  notes,  taken  up  the 
more  general  topics  which  a  review  of  the  whole  suggested, 
rather  than  again  have  retraced  the  passage  from  verse  to 
verse,  which  not  unfrequentiy,  (especially  in  the  Epistles,) 
leads  to  a  repetition  of  what  had  occurred  in  the  explana- 
tion. In  the  historic  parts,  the  plan  alluded  to  is  frequently 
adopted:  and  hence  the  most  interesting  reflections  not  un- 
commonly occur,  on  apparently  unpromising  chapters.* 

"January  ^7,  1803.  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  hints 
on  some  of  the  Psalms,  particularly  the  xvth  and  xxiid.  I 
write  a  great  part  of  the  notes  over  again.  I  was  very  ill, 
and  very  much  discouraged,  when  1  hurried  over  this 
pari  of  the  work:  and  as  I  am  vastly  desirous  of  domg' 
something  less  inadequate  on  this  most  delightful  part  of 
scripture,  I  wish  you,  with  all  freedom,  to  give  me  your 
sentiments.  A  man  who  reads  at  leisure,  and  has  a  tolera- 
ble measure  of  taste  and  judgment,  will  strike  out  thoughts, 
and  ways  of  stating  things,  which  his  equal  or  superior,  in 
laboring  through  his  daily  task,  would  not  hit  on." 

The  observation  here  made  is  one,  to  the  benefit  of 
which  every  commentator  is  certainly  entitled.  The  preach- 
er, or  the  writer  of  remarks  on  particular  passages,  selects 
those  parts  of  scripture  which  strike  his  mind,  and  on  which 
he  has  something,  perhaps,  more  than  common  to  offer:  the 
regular  commentator  must  travel  through  all  alike;  and  may 

♦  See,  for  example,  the  Practical  Observations  on  Genesis  r.— the  cat- 
alogue of  aatediluviun  patriarchs. 
*17 


198  COMMENTARY  ON  [Cfup.  X. 

thus  perhaps  rise  to  a  less  height  on  many  given  passages 
than  even  inferior  men  may  attain. 

In  1807,  before  the  edition  in  hand  was  completed,  all 
the  earlier  volumes  were  so  nearly  sold  off,  that  it  became 
necessary  to  commence  a  new  one.  On  this  occasion  the 
question  recurred,  whether  my  father  should  undertake  the 
publication  on  his  own  account,  or  dispose  of  the  work  to 
the  booksellers:  and  it  was  again  decided  in  favor  of  the 
former  plan,  for  the  same  reason  as  before, — that  he  might 
be  at  full  hberty  to  give  it  every  improvement  in  his  power. 
"It  would  certainly,"  he  says,  ''be  more  agreeable  to  me  to 
pay  all  the  sums  which  I  owe,  and  to  have  no  further  con- 
cern with  the  trading  part  of  the  service:  but  I  do  not  at 
present  feel  this  much  of  a  burden  to  me;  and  I  am  con- 
scious that  I  have  property  sufficient,  and  more  than  suffi- 
cient to  discharge  all  in  due  time;  and  that  both  the  debts 
and  the  dealings  were  the  result  of  a  wish  to  do  my  best  to 
promote  the  cause  of  true  religion,  and  proceeded  not  either 
Irom  the  desire  of  worldly  lucre  or  honor,  or  from  a  schem- 
ing spirit.     It  was  the  only  possible  plan  at  the  time." 

The  same  letter  (dated  March  11,)  gives  the  following 
notice  of  the  progress  which  the  work  was  making  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  of  "a  mark  of  esteem  'and 
regard"  there  conferred  upon  the  author,  of  which,  though 
he  would  meet  it  with  a  return  of  respect  and  gratitude,  he 
never  thought  it  proper  further  to  avail  himself — ""1  had 
two  letters  from  North  America  about  three  weeks  since, 
in  01  ,i  of  which  I  am  informed  by  a  bookseller,  that  he  has 
twelve  hundred  subscribers  for  the  Bible,  and  expects  a  great 
many  more;  and  that  it  is  read  with  approbation  by  the  re- 
ligious people  of  all  descriptions.  As  a  proof  of  this  appro- 
bation, the  packet  contained  a  parchment  by  which  i  am 
constituted  D.  D.  by  the  Dickensonian  College,  Carlisle,, 
Pennsylvania,  by  persons  whose  names  1  never  belbre  heard. 
What  use  I  may  make  of  this  honorary  distinction  is  a  sub- 
sequent consideration:  but  the  whole  encourages  me  to 
hope  that  my  labor  is  not  in  vain." 

The  letters  referred  to  (which  are  now  before  me,)  as- 
s-ured  him  that  "if  he  could  know  half  the  extent  of  good 
which  had  already  resulted  to  the  interests  of  our  glorious 
Kedeemer's  kingdom  in  that  country,  from  his  Commentary 
and  other  works,  his  joy  7s:ould  befidiy 

In  April  1809,  we  find  the  third  edition  advanced  about 
half  way  towards  its  completion.     "I  was  not  aware,"  the 


1788—1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  19^ 

autlior  writes,  'vat  the  beginning  of  the  former  edition,  that 
the  nature  of  the  work  would  render  the  printing  so  tedious; 
(for  it  never  stopped  for  me  one  day,  except  when  I  lost 
the  preface;)  and  nine  years  was  far  more  than  I  looked 
forward  to:  .  .  .  but  three  years,  that  is,  a  year  and  a  half 
from  this  time,  may  without  difficulty  finish  the  present  edi- 
tion  On   the   whole,   I  believe    few   persons  would 

have  found  courage  and  pertinacity  to  struggle  through  all 
the  difficulties  of  so  vast  an  undertaking,  as  compared  with 
my  circumstances:  and,  though  many  may  see,  or  think  they 
see,  mistakes  in  my  manner  of  conducting  the  work,  on  the 
most  careful  review,  I  cannot  see  how  I  could,  consistently 
with  my  principles,  and  with  reserving  the  copy-right,  have 
done  materially  better.  1  have  accomplished  my  object; 
and  am  more  disposed  to  rejoice  and  be  thankful,  than  to 
complain." 

At  the  close  of  1810,  my  father  contracted  with  the  pre- 
sent proprietors  for  the  sale  of  the  copy-right,  for  which 
he  eventually  received  2,000/.,  and  for  the  remaining 
copies  of  the  third  edition.  The  following  year  they  pro-  ^ 
ceeded  with  a  new  edition:  and  near  the  close  of  1812  the 
injunction  against  them  was  obtained,  by  representations 
which  could  not  be  substantiated.  My  father  wrote  con- 
cerning it,  as  follows,  January  22,  ISl.'^. 

''Could  it  be  established,  the  consequences  would  be,  the 
sweeping  away  of  all  my  little  property;  the  locking  up  af 
5000/.  expended  by  the  purchasers  of  the  copy-right,  be- 
sides the  money  paid  me, — which  they  would  have  a  right 
to  reclaim;  and  the  perpetuating  of  the  first  edition,  with  all 
its  imperfections  on  its  head,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  subse- 
quent improvements;  unless  some  compromise  could  be 
submitted  to.  .  .  .  It  is  wholly  in  the  breast  of  one  man  (the 
Chancellor)  to  decide:  but  that  man's  heart  is  in  the  hand  of 
the  Lord!  ....  Pray  that  I  may  be  enabled  to  act  as  it 
becomes  a  Christian,  and  an  aged  minister  of  Christ,  in  the 
business;  and,  as  to  the  rest,  the  will  of  the  Lord  he  done."^^ 

Anotlier  extract  of  about  the  same  date  is  communicated 
to  me  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mayor.  "An  instance  of  his  disin- 
terestedness," says  that  esteemed  friend,  '4  have  before 

me,  when  relating  the  difficulties  he  was  placed  in  by 's 

suit.  Besides  the  ruin  which  it  would  be  to  his  property, 
which  would  oblige  him  to  throw  himself  upon  his  credit- 
ors, and  for  maintenance  upon  God's  providence,  he  laments 
the  heavy  loss  it  would  be  to  the  purchasers  of  the  copy- 


200  COMMENTARY  ON  [Chap.  X. 

right,  and  adds:  'Should  he  succeed,  it  ^vould  render  all  my 
labors  in  this  respect,  for  the  last  twenty  years,  at  present 
useless.  But,  if  God  see  the  work  suited  to  be  an  instru- 
ment for  promoting-  his  glory,  neither  the  devil  nor  his 
factors  can  hinder  its  circulation:  if  not,  let  it  go  to  the 
dogs.  As  to  the  rest,  were  I  a  poet,  I  would  add  another 
line  about  authors  to  those  of  Virgil, 

•Sic  vos  non  vobis  vcllera  feitis,  oves,'  hue. 

If  good  be  done,  let  both  the  profit  and  the  credit  go  to 
others.  I  exult  that  I  am  not  the  injurious,  but  the  injured 
party.'  "  Mr.  Mayor  proceeds:  ''From  a  subsequent  let- 
ter of  the  12th  of  Februar}'-,  1813,  I  could  not  but  admire 
his  perseverance,  in  preparing  a  new  edition  to  be  printed 
at  some  future  period,  notwithstanding  the  uncertainty  of 
the  present  use  or  emolument  to  be  made  of  it." 

February  llth,  after  hating  been  twice  in  London  upon 
the  subject,  he  says:  "1  finished  my  answer  to 's  af- 
fidavit, made  my  own,  and  signed  it  oa  the  29th  ult.;  and, 
after  a  most  wearisome  time  to  body  and  mind,  returned 
home  on  the  :30th,  fully  expecting  to  hear  the  Chancellor's 

decision  in  a  few  days:  but  hitherto  1  have  heard  nothing 

I  was  very  poorly  in  town,  worse  than  usual,  and  feared  re- 
turning home  quite  ill:  but  I  did  not.  I  have,  however^ 
been  very  weak  and  low  since,  as  if  recovering  from  a  fe- 
ver; but  I  rather  get  better,  and  the  spring  is  coming  on. 
Close  study,  which  is  too  much  ibr  me,  is,  next  to  prayer^ 
my  chief  relief  from  gloomy  thoughts:  but  they  are  not  so 
much  about  my  temporal  vexations,  as  concerning  the  rea- 
son why  God  thus  contends  with  me.  .  .  .  While  fully  con- 
scious beibre  Him,  that  I  never  meant  to  injure  any  man,^ 
so  man}'  other  things  recur  to  my  remembrance,  as  to  the 
presumption  of  my  undertaking,  and  all  the  evil  attending 
the  whole  prosecution  of  it,  that  I  am  often  much  cast 
down:  yet  hope  prevails." 

The  following  extracts  of  a  Tetter  addressed  to  his  daugh- 
ter, two  days  previously,  further  illustrate  his  state  of  mind 
at  this  anxious  period. — The  first  is  from  another  hand. 

"February  9,  1813.  Your  father  returned  from  Lon- 
don very  poorly,  but,  through  mercy,  not  laid  up  as  ort 
former  occasions;  for  the  next  day  he  preached  two  excel- 
lent sermons,  on^  Set  your  affection  on  things  ahovty  aad,   The 


1733—1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  201 

end  of  all  things  is  at  hand.     The  first  especially  was  most 
admirable." 

The  next  is  bis  own  addition  to  the  letter. 

(■<■ speaks  as  it"  a  tlnal  settlement  of — 's  bus- 
iness might  soon  be  expected;  but  I  am  tar  from  being  so 
sanguine.  The  gross  blunders  of  ray  former  lawyers,  and 
the  clumsiness  of  the  deeds,  throw  intricacy  on  what  we 
might  think  so  plain  that  the  event  was  certain.  What  the 
partners  are  doing  I  cannot  conceive.  Eleven  days  have 
elapsed  since  I  completed  my  answer,  which  I  supposed 
would  have  been  brought  into  court  directly.  .  .  .  However 
1  am  not  anxious.  Let  who  will  take  property  and  credit, 
if  the  Lord  Jesus  does  but  receive  my  soui!  But  should  it 
go  wholly  against  me,  I  shall  never  more,  as  far  as  1  caa 
see,  have  money  for  travelling  expences,  except  unavoid- 
able." 

The  next  letter  (dated  March  12th,)  brought  intelligence 
that  the  injunction  was  dissolved.  The  partners  hand- 
somely defrayed  all  expences  of  the  suit:  and  here  my  fa- 
ther's embarrassments,  though  not  his  labors,  respecting  his 
Commentary  ended. 

The  first  edition  of  this  work,  completed  in  1792,  con- 
sisted originally  of  three  thousand  copies:  but,  after  all 
that  remained  of  it  had  been  sold  in  1798,  for  450/.,  (the 
Fetail  price  of  little  more  than  one  hundred  copies,)  it  con- 
tinued to  be  reprinted,  as  different  parts  were  wanted,  by 
the  purchaser,  and  afterwards  by  others  into  whose  hands 
it  came,  and  who  advertised  their  reprints  as  a  third  edition; 
and  was  sold  exclusively  till  1802,  and  then  jointly  with  my 
father''s  editions  till  1814*  so  that  it  is  making  a  low  calcu- 
lation to  say,  that  it  extended  to  five  thousand  copies.  The 
first  edition  Tvith  references^  commenced  in  1802,  and  com- 
pleted in  1^09,  consisted  of  two  thousand:  the  second  begun 
in  1807,  and  finished  in  1811,  of  the  same  number:  the 
third,  which  was  in  the  course  of  pubhcation  from  1812  to 
1814,  of  three  thousand.  The  edition,  on  the  revision  of 
which  the  author  labored  from  the  year  1818  till  the  very 
commencement  of  his  last  illness,  and  which  is  just  com- 
pleted, is  in  stereotype;  and  forms,  1  presume,  the  largest 
work  ever  submitted  to  that  process.  The  copy  was  fully 
prepared  by  himself  for  the  press  to  the  end  of  2  Timothy 
iii,  '::  and  for  the  remainder  he  left  a  copy  of  the  preceding 
edition,  corrected,  though  less  perfectly,  to  the  very  end 
♦f  Revelation;  from  which  the  work  has  been  finished,  ac- 


202  DEATH    OF  MRS.  SCOTT,        [Chap.  X. 

cording  to  his  own  final  directions,  and  in  concert  with  his 
family,  under  the  care  of  a  person  who  had  been  his  liter- 
ary assistant  in  carrying  it  on,  and  in  whom  he  placed  entire 
contidence  * 

Besides  these  English  editions,  amounting  to  at  least 
twelve  thousand  copies,  I  have  received,  from  an  American 
bookseller  of  respectability,  the  particulars  of  eight  edi- 
tions printed  within  the  territories  of  the  United  States,  at 
Philadelphia,  New  York,  Boston,  and  Hartford,  from  the 
year  1808  to  1819,  amounting  to  twenty  five  thousand  two 
hundred  and  fifty  copies:  besides  an  edition  of  the  sacred 
text  only,  with  my  father's  references,  contents  of  chap- 
ters, and  introductions  to  the  several  books  of  scripture. 

The  retail  price  of  all  the  English  copies,  taking  their 
number  as  above  stated,  (which  I  believe  to  be  short  of  the 
truth,)  would,  I  find,  amount  to  the  sum  of  67,000/.:  that 
of  the  American  copies,  to  132,300/.  making  together 
199,900/.  [or  eight  hundred  and  eighty  seven  thousand  five 
hundred  and  fifty  six  dollars.]  Probably  no  theological 
work  can  be  pointed  out,  which  produced,  by  its  sale  dur- 
ing the  author's  life-time,  an  equal  sum. 

To  his  history  of  his  Commentary  my  father  subjoins 
the  following  paragraph: 

'4n  the  same  year  that  the  Bible  was  begun,  my  youngest 
son  (Benjamin)  was  born,  and  two  years  and  a  half  afterwards, 
in  September  1790,  my  wife  died;  while  my  hands  were  full 
of  employment,  and  my  heart  of  most  overwhelming  cares: 
so  that  my  distress  and  anguish,  at  that  period,  were  beyond, 
whatever  will  be  known  or  conceived  by  others,  at  least  ia 
this  world.  But  the  Lord,  in  unspeakable  mercy,  gave  me 
my  present  wife,  who  has  proved  in  every  respect  a  blessing 
to  me  and  my  children;  a  very  useful  assistant  in  my  various 
labors;  and  I  trust  an  instrument  of  good  to  numbers." 

I  shall  add  little  to  what  my  father  has  here  said  upon  this 
subject.  Of  the  overwhelming  distress  which  he  felt  on  my 
mother's  decease,  Icouldbear  striking  testimony:  and  many 
could  join  me  in  declaring  the  tender  affection  with  which  he 
ever  cherished  her  memory.  If  any  one  should  be  ready 
to  think  the  fact  of  his  marrying  again,  within  much  less 
time  than  is  usual  on  such  occasions,  an  evidence  to  the  con- 
trary; 1  confidently  afhrm  that  such  a  person  is  mistaken;  and 

[]•  The  American  publishers  of  tliis  work  would  give  notice,  th«t  their 
new  edilioa  of  Scott's  Family  Bible,  which  is  immediately  going  to 
press,  will  be  copied  from  the  corrected  edition  here  mentioned  ] 


1790—3.]    AND  OCCURRENCES  FOLLOWING.      203 

I  fully  believe  that,  if  the  whole  case  cowld  be  fairly  laid 
before  a  wise  and  impartial  judge,  he  would  justify  my 
fathers  conduct.  Let  il  be  considered  in  what  circumstances 
he  was  left — with  four  children  of  an  age  peculiarly  requir- 
ing superintendence — without  any  person  to  take  charge  of 
them  superior  to  a  servant — himself  involved  in  labors  and 
struggles,  sufficient,  one  would  imagine,  not  only  to  occupy 
all  his  time,  but  to  wear  down  his  health  and  spirits — his 
habits  so  perfectly  domestic,  that  he  never  thought  of 
seeking  relaxation  out  of  his  own  doors,  unless  it  were  in  a 
short  walk,  and  one  evening  m  a  fortnight  in  meeting  his 
clerical  brethren  in  a  private  society.  To  them  he  submitted 
his  case  and  the  question  of  his  marriage:  they  did  not  disap- 
prove the  measure,  and  he  determined  upon  it.  His  situa- 
tion was  peculiar;  nor  was  his  character  quite  of  the  ordinary 
standard.  I  am  persuaded  he  acted  rightly,  and  that  the 
blessing  of  heaven  followed  the  step  betook.  Indeed,  no 
person  could  be  more  happy  than  mj'  father  was,  in  i)oth  his 
marriages.  Of  the  person  who  formed  the  object  of  his 
second  choice,  as  she  survives  him,  1  shall  say  nothing  mor<?, 
than  that  the  whole  tamily  concur?  in  the  sentence  which  my 
father  pronounced  on  his  dying  bed,  "That  she  had  been  an 
unspeakable  blessing  to  him  and  his  for  more  than  thirty 
years." 

I  annex  a  few  letters  connected  with  the  changes  which 
have  thus  been  adverted  to.  They  are  valuable  in  them- 
selves, and  tend  further  to  illustrate  the  character  of  the 
writer. 

The  following  letter  announced  the  death  of  my  dear 
mother  to  her  sister,  and  through  her  to  the  rest  of  her  fam- 
ily. 

"Chapel  Street,  September  9,  1790.  Dear  sister,  I 
should  be  glad  to  spare  you,  and  our  poor  aged  mother,  and 
my  other  friends  in  Northumberland,  the  pain  and  sorrow 
that  this  letter  must  occasion:  but  it  must  not  be.  lour 
dear  sister  is  gone  to  heaven  before  us;  and  has  left  many, 
and  me  especially,  and  her  children,  sellishly  to  lament, 
that  she  is  no  longer  a  sinner  or  a  sufferer,  and  aln)ost  to 
wish  her  back  again.  She  was  taken,  about  a  fortnight 
ago,  with  apparently  a  slight  indisposition  in  her  stomvich, 
which  it  was  thought  some  trivial  medicines  would  remove; 
but  it  proved  obstinate,  and  at  length  terminated  in  fever 
and  nervous  delirium,  and  baffled  every  effort  of  the  medical 
gentlemen  who  kindly  attended  her.     She  died  yesterday 


204  OCCURRENCES  FOLLOWING       [Chaf.  X. 

a  little  after  seven  in  the  evening". — I  see,  and  trust  you  will 
see,  and  submit  to  the  hand  of  the  Lord  in  this  most  painful 
dispensation:  and  1  would  study  how  to  get  comfort  under  it, 
and  derive  benefit  from  it.  But  my  heart  rebels  against 
my  judgment  frequently;  and  I  feel  my  loss  to  be  so  great, 
that  gloom  and  distrust  rush  in.  Yet  the  Lord  can  make  it 
up  to  us  by  his  own  all-sufficiency. — I  can  truly  say,  that, 
during  the  fifteen  years  and  three  quarters  that  the  Lord  hath 
lent  me  this  loan,  1  have  valued  it  more  and  more  daily. 
In  every  sense,  she  has  been  a  blessing  to  me,  even  as  a 
minister,  as  well  as  a  Christian:  and  few  persons  have  died 
moje  generally  and  justly  lamented  by  all  that  knew  her. 
But  the  Lord  gave^  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  am^ay;  and  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord!  1  would  say  so  from  my  heart: 
though  it  aches  when  I  attempt  it. — The  last  time  she  had 
the  clear  use  of  her  faculties,  she  expressed  the  fullest  joy 
and  confidence  in  the  Lord,  and  assurance,  that,  if  she  died, 
she  should  go  to  be  with  Christ:  and  she  wished  me  to  say 
to  all  her  friends,  as  her  last  advice,  that  they  would  never 
know  happiness,  till  they  left  all  other  dependences  and 
vain  pursuits,  to  seek  salvation  and  comfort  by  faith  in 
Christ  crucified,  and  in  communion  with  God  through  him. 
She  was  greatly  rejoiced  by  your  last  letter:  but  she  would 

have  said  a  good  deal  to  brother ^  about  the    snares  of 

the  world,  and  the  danger  of  willing  to  be  rich^  if  he  had 
stood  by  her  bed-side.     1  must  leave  it  to  you  to  break  the 

melancholy  subject  to  our  mother,  as  you  see  best My 

dear,  unknown  sister,  to  whom  I  sincerely  wish  all  happi- 
ness for  my  poor  wife''s  sake,  this  world,  beheve  me,  is  a 
bubble:  we  shall  soon  be  in  the  same  situation  with  her:  let 
us,  then,  seek  the  one  thing  needful  more  diligently,  even 
that  good  part  which  shall  never  be  taken  away." 

To  the  husband  of  the  same  correspondent,  April  4, 
1791,  "I  should  have  written  before  this,  had  it  not  been 
for  my  excessive  engagements;  notwithstanding  that  I  was 
aware  you  and  other  friends  in  the  north  would  not  be  very 
well  pleased  with  the  step  which  you  have  heard  I  have 
taken.  But,  whatever  you  may  suppose,  I  certainly  acted 
most  conscientiously  in  what  i  did;  and,  I  doubt  not,  this  will 
appear  in  the  day  when  all  the  motives  of  all  actions  shall 
be  made  known.  A  variety  of  peculiarities  in  my  situation, 
disposition,  &.c.  rendered  it  necessary  for  me  to  deviate 
from  the  etiquette  of  human  custom,  if  I  would  go  on  with 
my  many  and  important  undertakings  with  a  quiet  mind.    J 


1790—3.]       THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  SCOTT.  205 

have  no  doubt  that  your  dear  deceased  sister,  could  she  come 
to  give  her  opinion,  would  sanction  my  conduct.  .  . .  Nobody, 
that  knows  me,  and  my  behavior  to  her,  from  the  time  we 
met  till  that  most  distressing  hour  of  my  life  when  the  Lord 
separated  us  for  a  season,  will  suppose  that  my  conduct 
arose  fromw^int  of  love  to  her,  or  of  respect  for  her  memory; 

which  will  be  dear  to  me  to  my  latest  hour I  can  only 

add,  that  I  shall  always  be  glad  to  see,  or  hear  from,  or  do  any 
service  to  any  of  you,  as  much  as  ever;  and  I  have  not  for- 
gotten my  proposal  made  to  my  mother  last  year,  as  I  mean 
shortly  to  evince.  Whenever  you  come  to  London,  you  will 
meet  with  as  hearty  a  welcome  in  my  house  as  ever,  if  you 
will  favor  me  with  making  it  your  home. . , .,  My  most  affec- 
tionate and  dutiful  remembrances  to  my  mother  Kell. 
May  the  Lord  be  her  support  and  comfort  under  the  intirni- 
ities  of  her  old  age,  and  in  the  hour  of  death,  and  her  por- 
tion for  ever.  I  seldom  forget  to  pray  for  you,  that  you  may 
be  all  made  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  lightj 
that  we  may  be  there  united  for  ever,  after  the  various 
changes  and  troubles  of  this  sinful  world." 

T^e  jfollowing  letter  he  addressed  to  his  deceased  wife's 
mother. 

"August  5,  1791.  Honored  Madam,  Unexpected  inci- 
dents, arising  from  the  expensive  publication  in  which  I  am 
concerned,  have  rendered  it  inconvenient  tome  to  send  the 
enclosed  £10  sooner;  though  the  delay  has  grieved  me. 

I  understand  that  you  now  reside  with  brother  ■— ;  yet 

there  may  be  many  little  matters,  tending  to  the  comfort  of 
your  advanced  age,  that  you  may  wish  for,  and  should  have 
in  your  power.  Probably  as  the  providence  of  God  hath 
ordered  matters,  you  and  I  may  never  meet  in  this  world; 
but  your  present  comfort  and  future  felicity  are  and  mu.-t 
be  near  my  heart,  for  the  sake  of  your  valuable  daughter, ^~ 
now  a  saint  in  glory,  surrounded  with  her  three  children 
that  went  thither  before  her,  as  I  am  fully  satisfied.  Whilst 
it  pleases  God  to  continue  your  life  and  mine,  you  may  be 
assured  of  the  same  sum  every  year,  and  probably  earlier 
next  year  than  I  haye  at  present  been  able  to  send  il;  anji 
I  hope  you  will  oblige  me  by  receiving  it  without  hesi- 
tation: else  you  will  add  another  sorrow  to  the  many  I  have 
experienced.  If  you  knew  all  that  God  knows  of  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  I  have  been  placed,  you  could  not 
blame,  you  would  approve  of  the  step  I  have  taken,  since  it 
pleased  God  to  take  your  dear  daughter  to  himself.  Situated 
18 


206  DEATH  OF  MRS.  SCOTT.  [Chap.  X, 

and  engaged  as  I  was,  it  was  literally  impossible  for  me  to 
proceed  in  any  other  way.  ...  I  remain,  dear  madam,  with 
sincere  affection,  and  good  wishes,  and  prayers,  for  your  pres- 
ent and  future  felicity,  Your's  affectionately  and  respectfully, 

Thomas  Scott." 

I  add  one  more  extract,  from  a  letter  addressed,  like  the 
first,  to  my  mother's  sister,  and  dated  January  23,  1793. 

"It  cannot  have  given  any  person  more  satisfaction  than 
it  has  done  me,  that  the  Lord  put  it  into  my  power  to  add 
any  thing  to  the  comfort  of  the  aged  mother  of  her,  who 
was  so  long  my  choicest  earthly  blessing,  and  whose  mem- 
ory must  ever  be  dear  to  me.  Though!  have  never  seer> 
her,  I  cannot  but  feel  a  measure  of  filial  respect  and  affection 
for  her,  as  well  as  love  for  you  and  your's:  and  [should  re- 
joice at  the  opportunity  of  conversing  with  you,  if  the  Lord 
saw  good.  But  that  is  not  likely  in  present  circumstances. 
My  desire  therefore  and  prayer  are,  that  we  may  be  found 
amongst  those,  whom  Jesus  hath  redeemed  unto  God  with  his 
bloody  and  may  meet  in  heaven  to  spend  together  a  joyful 
eternity. — We  are  all  poor  sinners,  in  our  best  estate;  and 
they  who  know  their  own  hearts  most,  and  are  best  acquaint- 
ed with  the  spiritual  law  of  God,  will  be  most  ready  to  make 
allowance  for  others,  as  well  as  most  prepared  to  value  the 
atonement,  grace,  and  salvation  of  our  divine  Redeemer: 
and  thus  alone  can  we  be  made  meet  for  the  inheritance  of 
the  saints  in  light.  You  have  no  reason,  therefore,  to 
write  with  timidity  to  such  a  poor,  weak,  wretched  sinner  as 
I  am.  The  Lord  hath  shewn  me  a  little  of  his  glorious  sal- 
vation, and  1  bear  witness,  in  a  feeble  manner,  to  his  pre- 
ciousness,  his  power,  truth,  mercy,  and  grace:  but  I  have 
no  reason  to  assume  any  precedence  above  the  feeblest  of 
his  disciples;  and  he  alone  makes  me  to  differ  from  the 
vilest  of  his  enemies;  and  must  preserve  that  difference,  if 
it  continue — as  I  trust  it  will I  send  you  all  the  num- 
bers to  complete  three  copies  of  the  Bible I  sent  the 

third  copy  for  my  mother,  at  my  late  dear  wife's  desire.  If 
then  you  have  sold  it,  the  money  is  properly  her's:  and  I 
hope  you  will  employ  it  in  any  way  for  her  comfort,  and 
that  you  will  fairly  tell  me,  whether  any  more  can  at  all 
alleviate  her  sufferings  in  her  present  state.  Depend  upon 
it,  neither  I  nor  my  family  shall  be  hurt  by  it. — Give  my 
dutiful  love  to  her,  and  tell  her  that  it  is  my  fervent  prayer, 
that  the  Lord  would  be  her  support,  comfort,  teacher,  and 
Savior;  and  that  at  last  sh^e  may,  in  humble  and  lively  faith, 


1792—1802.]    FINISHING  HIS  COMMENTARY,       207 

commend  her  soul,  as  Stephen  did,  into  the   hands  of  the 

Lord  Jesus;  that  so  we  may  all  meet  in  heaven 

I  remain  your  sincerely  affectionate  brother, 

Thomas  Scott." 
At  a  subsequent  period  the  families  were  connected  by, 
fresh  ties. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ADDITIONAL     PARTICULARS     FROJf     THE     TIME    OF     FINlSHmO     HIS 
COMMEKl aRY  TO  THE    EVE    OF    HIS    REMOVAL    FROM  LONDON. 

In  giving  a  connected  view  of  the  transactions  relative  to 
my  fathers  Commentary  on  the  scriptures,  we  have  un- 
avoidably been  carried  forward  beyond  the  regular  series 
of  events,  even  past  the  time  of  his  removal  from  London. 
He  himself,  indeed,  has  recorded  little  in  his  narrative  con- 
cerning this  whole  period,  beyond  what  is  already  before 
the  reader.  Some  particulars,  however,  may  be  collected, 
especially  from  his  letters,  which  must  not  be  omitted  in  the 
history  of  his  hie. 

We  may  first  advert  to  the  several  works  which  he  pub- 
lished within  the  period  assigned  to  this  chapter,  and  which 
may  be  mentioned  in  two  or  three  classes. 

His  'impartial  Statement  of  the  Scripture  Doctrine  in  re- 
spect of  Civil  Government  and  the  duties  of  Subjects,"  was 
published  near  the  ckjse  of  1792;  his  "Rights  of  God,"  (a 
title  suggested  by  the  eager  discussions  then  carried  on  con- 
cerning the  rights  of  man.,)  in  1793;  and  his  "Vindication  of 
the  Divine  Inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  the  Doc- 
,trines  contained  in  them,  in  answer  to  Mr.  Paine's  Age  of 
Reason,"  in  1796. — These  publications  were  directed 
against  the  infidel  and  anarchical  principles  at  that  time  so 
widely  diffused  in  the  nation.  "The  Rights  of  God"  was 
undertaken,  and  the  title  adopted,  at  the  suggestion  of 
another  person.  Probably  the  title  was  not  well  chosen, 
and  the  work  attracted  less  notice  than,  perhaps,  any  other 
production  of  its  author.  The  two  other  pieces  were  re- 
peatedly printed,  (particularly  the  Answer  to  Paine,  in 
America  as  well  as  at  home,)  and  obtained  a  pretty  wide 
circulation.  Some  things  concerning  them  may  be  collected 
from  the  author's  letters. 


20?  FIMSHINGf  HIS  COMMENTARY   [Chap.  XI. 

His  sending"  the  first  mentioned  tract  to  his  dissenting 
friend,  now  Dr.  Ryland  of  Bristol,  gave  occasion  to  the  ex- 
pression of  some  of  his  poHtical  sentiments,  particularly  as 
connected  with  the  duties  of  Christians. 

"December  5,  1792.  You  will  receive  with  this  a  few 
copies  of  a  publication  on  a  subject  mentioned  in  your  last: 
not  on  politics,  but  on  the  religious  question  connected 
with  them.  I  have  endeavored  to  be  impartial;  and  1  do 
not  expect  to  please  either  party  in  these  violent  times:  but- 
1  trust  moderate  men  will  approve  most  of  it,  as  far  as  they 
regard  the  Bible.  I  am  no  great  stickler  for  monarchy,  or 
any  of  its  appendages;  and  I  trust  I  am  a  steady  friend  to 
real  liberty,  in  all  cases  and  places:  yet,  as  human  nature  is 
constituted,  I  am  apt  to  think  a  limited  monarchy,  or  mixed 
government,  where  one  branch  oversees  and  checks  the 
others,  is  best;  and  that  an  absolute  repubhcT  must  verge 
either  to  anarchy  or  to  oligarchical  tyranny.  But  I  have 
nothing  to  do  with  such  questions.  I  should  obey  under  a 
republic  even  as  under  our  constitution,  if  providence 
placed  me  under  it.  I  also  think  that  our  constitution  is 
like  a  good  old  clock,  which  wants  cleaning,  regulating, 
and  oiling;  but  that  to  knock  it  in  pieces,  in  order  to  sub- 
stitute a  new  French  watch  in  its  place,  the  going  of  which 
has  not  been  tried,  would  be  impolitic  and  even  ridiculous: 
yet  multitudes  are  bent  upon  this,  and  I  fear  bloodshed  will 
be  the  consequence. — I  must  also  think  that  many  religious 
and  respectable  dissenters  have  expected  too  much,  in  a 
■world  of  which  the  devil  is  styled  the  god  and  prince;  and 
where  protection  and  toleration  seem  the  utmost  that  God's 
children  can  hope  for.  Many  also,  both  dissenters  and 
others,  have  meddled  too  much  with  such  matters:  and  I 
grieve  to  see  that  the  prejudice,  which  this  has  infused  into 
the  mind  of  religious  people  in  the  church,  is  likely  to 
widen  our  unhappy  divisions:  for  they  will  not  make  proper 

discriminations My  sentiments  on  our  duties  you  will  see 

in  the  pamphlet:  so  far,  I  trust,  we  shall  be  agreed:  and,  if 
cur  political  creed  be  not  identically  the  same,  1  hope  that 
will  make  no  difference.  I  always  thought  you  so  engaged 
in  the  work  of  the  ministry,  and  in  promoting  the  kingdom 
of  Christ,  as  to  bestow  little  time  about  other  governments; 
and  I  trust  you  will  be  so  still. — I  am  so  far  from  wishing 
thatBr.  Priestly  had  been  burned  at  Birmingham,  that  I  am 
grieved  that  such  weapons  should  have  been  at  all  used  by 
those  who  pretended  to  be  friends,  either  to  the  doctrines  q£ 


1792—1802.]    TO  LEAVING  LONDON.  209 

Christ,  or  to  the  constitution.  I  am  sorry,  also,  that  the 
persons  you  mention  are  so  vehement.  An  enemy  hath  done 
it.  As  far  as  I  have  influence  I  would  be  a  peace-maker: 
we  have  enemies  enough,  and  should  not  quarrel  with  each 
other." 

To  the  same,  December  24,  1792.  "I  entirely  agree 
with  you,  that  many  things  want  mending  among  us:  but  1 
fear  the  governed  are  as  much  to  blame  as  the  governors. 
The  nation  indeed  is  a  mass  of  corruption;  and  throwing  it 
into  a  new  form  will  not  mend  it.  If  North  America  pros- 
per under  her  new  government,  the  cause  is  principally  to 
be  found  in  the  moral  state  of  the  inhabitants.  The  way 
for  the  people  to  reform  the  government  obviously  is,  by 
choosing,  without  any  recompence^  the  most  honest  men 
they  can  find,  for  members  of  parUameni:  but,  if  the  sena- 
tors' votes  are  bought  by  ministers,  the  electors'  votes  are 
bought  by  senators,  not  only  in  the  rotten  boroughs,  but  in 
capital  cities,  and  counties;  and  almost  every  voter,  like 
Esau,  sells  his  birthright,  and  then  is  angry  that  he  has  it 
not.  If  we  could  see  that  the  counties  and  large  cities  and 
towns  made  an  honest  use  of  their  privilege,  and  that, 
bribery  was  the  effect  of  inadequate  representation,  I 
should  then  be  of  opinion  that  a  reform  would  do  good;  at 
present,  1  fear  it  would  make  bad  worse — at  least  no  better: 
for  who  almost  is  there  that  does  not  vote  from  interest 
rather  than  from  judgment.  I  fear  we  are  nearly  ripe  for 
vengeance:  my  views  are  gloomy:  but  I  think  that  lisvery 
violent  change  would  accelerate  our  ruin. 

"I  am  rather  a  favorer  of  a  limited  monarchy;  but  would 
not  be  severe  on  a  mere  speculative  republican;  though  I 
think  silence,  in  that  case,Js  a  duty,  while  the  providence  of 
God  continues  us  iiud^r  a  monarchy:  and  I  can  find  nothing 
in  history,  that  should  render  any  but  the  ambitious  warrior, 
or  the  avaricious  merchant,  fond  of  a  republic  I  am  sure 
that  republican  Greece,  Rome,  and  Carthage,  shed  human 
blood,  and  multiplied  crimes,  to  increase  wealth  or  extend 
conquest,  even  as  much  as  absolute  monarchs:  and  their 
intestine  oppressions  and  divisions  were  equally  calami- 
tous." 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that,  at  the  period  when  this  let- 
ter was  written,  one  of  the  dogmas  attempted  to  be  imposed 
upon  a  deluded  people  was,  that  all  wars  were  to  be  traced  to 
the  ambition  of  kings. — In  these  letters  also  the  writer  ap- 
pears rather  to  have  softened  down  the  expressions  of  the 


210  FINISHING  HIS  COMMENTARY     [Chap.  XI. 

preference  which  he  entertained  for  the  British  constitution: 
at  least  that  preference  was  certainly  more  decided  and 
strong  at  a  later  period. — It  need  scarcely  be  said,  that  a 
man  of  my  father's  principles  and  discernment  was  never  in 
any  danger  of  being  duped,  by  the  boasting  pretensions  and 
high  expectations  which  accompanied  the  earlier  periods  of 
the  French  revolution.  He  always  held,  that,  proceeding 
as  it  did  upon  irreligious  principles,  and  being  founded  in 
false  views  of  human  nature,  no  good  was  to  be  expected 
from  it,  otherwise  than  as  a  remote  consequence. 

"In  respect  of  the  Test  Act,"  he  proceeds,  "I  would  cer- 
tainly aboUsh  it,  let  what  would  be  the  consequence;  because 
I  deem  it  the  scandal  of  the  church:  but,  if  I  were  a  dis- 
senter, I  think  I  should  care  less  about  it,  for  as  a  religious 
body  the  dissenters  will  be  less  led  into  temptation,  when 
abridged  of  their  right  in  this  particular,  than  if  freel}'  ad- 
mitted to  places  of  trust  and  profit:  and,  I  may  be  deemed 
censorious,  but,  I  fear,  a  loss  of  spirituality  renders  them 
more  earnest  in  this  matter  than  their  forefathers  were.  As  * 
to  the  supposed  preference  of  the  Episcopalian  minister* 
who  preach  the  gospel,  I  see  little  of  it.  Here,  at  least,  we 
most  of  us  have  less  salaries  and  more  work  than  our  dis- 
senting brethren.  Some  few  in  the  church,  indeed,  by  fam- 
ily connexions,  and  other  means,  get  large  livings;  but  prob- 
abh'^  they  would  be  better  without  them:  and,  except  by 
family  connexions  or  bought  livings,  we  are  almost  as  much 
out  of  the  way  of  preferment  as  our  dissenting  brethren. 
For  my  part,  1  scarcely  know  what  I  am  except  chaplain  of 
the  Lock;  but  I  expect,  at^4east,  that  a  good  living  will  be 
ofifered  to  you  as  soon  as  to  me:  and  it  will  then  be  soon 
enough  to  say,  whether  I  would  accept  of  it.  However, 
1  trust  J  speak  as  a  Christian  minister,  when  I  say,  that  tol- 
eration and  protection  are  all  that  God's  servants  can  rea- 
f^onably  expect  in  the  devil's  world:  and  in  fact  this  is  all 
they  should  desire.  But  1  fear  one  effect  of  these  disputes 
will  fee,  the  widening  of  the  breach  between  the  servants 
©f  Christ  in  the  establishment  and  out  of  it.  Far  be  it  from 
me  to  vindicate  the  madness  of  a  mob;  but  I  do  not  suppose 
that  either  tlie  king  or  the  sober  part  of  the  church  are  to 
blame  for  it;  more  than  the  moderate  men  at  Paris  for  the 
late  massacres.  Many  dissenlers,  chielly  (would  I  could  say 
wholly)  of  the  Arians  and  Socinians,  have  made  themselves 
obnoxious  to  those  who  are  attached  to  the  present  consti- 
tution: others  have  not  acted  discreetly;  and  parties  always 


n92— 1802.]     TO  LEAVING  LONDON.  211 

are  violent  against  whole  bodies  of  men:  they  who  run  into 
one  extreme,  drive  others  into  the  opposite:  moderate  men 
jjlease  no  party,  and  their  voice  cannot  be  heard:  thus  the 
war  of  the  tongue  and  pen  are  the  prelude  to  greater  out- 
rages, which  are  rather  chargeable  on  human  depravity, 
than  on  the  principles  of  the  party  that  commit  ihem.  I 
fear,  as  well  as  you,  lest  our  governors  should  be  too  tena- 
cious, and  rely  too  much  on  the  temporary  advantage  they 
have  gained:  yet  I  see  there  would  be  impolicy  in  timid 
counsels.  I  feel  that  they  cannot  safely  at  present  offend 
such  numbers  as  a  proper  retrenchment  of  expences  would 
occasion;  and  I  am  so  sensible  of  the  importance  of  their 
measures,  and  of  the  peril  and  delicacy  of  their  situation, 
that  I  can  only  pray  to  the  Lord  to  give  them  wisdom  to  ap- 
ply proper  remedies  to  the  distempered  state  of  the  nation, 
if  so  be  it  may  be  healed.  A  war  at  any  rate  must  be 
dreaded  at  present:  but,  could  I  suppose  administration  so 
impolitic  as  to  engage  in  a  war  in  order  to  exterminate  re- 
publicans on  the  continent,  I  should  theamake  up  my  mind 
on  the  business,  and  prepare  for  the  worst.  But  I  do  not 
think  they  mean  this,  and  how  far  it  may  be  unavoidable  for 
them  to  support  the  Dutch,  I  cannot  tell.  I  am  sure,  if  1 
could  be  heard,  1  should  say  to  all  the  powers  in  Europe, 
Unite  in  telling  the  French  Convention,  that  if  they  will  let 
other  nations  alone,  and  quietly  settle  their  own  g'overn- 
ment  as  they  please,  they  shall  not  be  molested:  but  that,  if 
they  will  be  busy  bodies  in  other  men's  matters,  they  must 

take  the  consequences As  to  the  weight  of  taxes  it  is  so 

great,  that  most  of  us  feel  and  lament  it:  yet  freedom  from 
war  in  cur  borders,  from  bloody  persecution,  from  famine 
and  pestilence,  should  render  us  patient  and  thankful;  nor 
can  the  evil  be  prevented.  I  have  now  written  a  long  let- 
ter, on  what  I  often  think  of,  but  do  not  frequently  discuss. 
Let  us,  my  brother,  leave  worldly  people  to  their  disputes 
about  worldly  subjects:  let  us  avoid  all  attachments  to  par- 
ties, and  the  extremes  of  all  parties:  let  us  endeavor  to  act 
as  peacemakers,  especially  in  the  church,  and  deem  our- 
selves far  more  nearly  united  in  the  bond  of  faith  to  all  who 
love  Christ,  than  we  can  be  to  those  of  our  party,  either 
religious  or  political,  who  do  not.  Let  us  pray  for  the 
peace  of  Jerusalem,  and  give  up  ourselves  to  the  work  of 
our  ministry,  and  then  we  shall  be  useful  and  comfortable 
at  all  events.  1  am,  your  sincerely  affectionate  friend  and 
brother,  T.  S." 


212  FINISHING  HIS  COMMENTARY    [Chap.  XI. 

Mr.,  now  Dr.  Cary,  was  at  this  time  seeking  permission 
to  proceed  to  India  as  a  missionary;  and  I  find  tlie  following 
notices  of  the  subject  in  this  correspondence  of  my  father's 
with  Dr.  Ryhmd. 

''April  24,  1798.  Mr.  Cary  brought  me  your  letter,  and 
I  wrote  lo  Mr.  Grant  about  the  business;  which  was  all  I 
could  do,  as  every  one  of  my  friends  would  have  referred 
that  matter  to  him." 

"May  6,  17i?3.  Mr.  Grant  expresses  the  most  cordial  de- 
sire to  serve  Mr,  Cary.  I  am  sure  I  cordially  approve  of 
the  plan,  and  pray  God  to  give  success  to  it:  for,  if  sinners 
.are  but  brought  to  repent,  believe  in  Christ,  and  walk  in 
newness  of  life,  I  am  satisiied:  and  I  am  quite  willing  that 
the  Lord  should  work  by  what  instruments  he  pleases,  and 
rejojce  that  they  are  multii)lied." 

Of  the  answer  to  Paine  my  father  thus  writes,  April  26, 
1796.  "I  have  interwoven  all  the  grand  proofs  of  revela- 
tion, and  the  nature  and  tendency  of  Christianity,  with  I 
trust  a  sufficient  confutation  of  Mr.  P.'s  cavils.  I  have  not 
treated  him  quite  so  genteelly  as  the  Bishop  of  Landaff  has; 
who,  by  the  way,  has  said  many  good  things,  though  he 
seems  to  give  up  the  point  as  to  the  entire  inspiration  of 
scripture,  and  pretends  not  to  answer  objections  to  the  doc- 
trines: but,  while  I  have  endeavored  strongly  to  expose 
Mr.  P.'s  disingenuousness,  ignorance  of  his  subject,  &c.  I 
hope  I  have  been  kept  from  a  harsh  spirit,  and  from  retort- 
ing his  revilings." 

On  reprinting  the  work  in  1798,  the  author  made  "re- 
trenchment"," as  well  as  alterations,  thinking  it  "no  longer 
necessary  to  squabble"  with  his  antagonist,  "vVhere  he  ad- 
vances obJGCtrt>ns  peculiar  to  himself,"  though  he  "did  not 
wish  to  have  the  answers  to  more  general  objections  out  of- 
print." 

The  hist  separate  publication  of  my  father's  life  was  a 
new  and  abridged  edition  of  this  work,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  year  1820,  accommodated  to  the  change  of  times  which 
had  taken  place.  As  he  had  entirely  re-written  it,  and, 
"while  he  greatly  abridged  it,  added  much  new  matter,  and 
several  striking  quotations,  especially  from  Bishop  Watson," 
he  says,  "it  may,  indeed,  more  properly  be  considered  as  a 
new  publication  on  the  subject,  at  the  close  of  his  hfe  and 
labors,  than  merely  as  an  abridgment  " 

The  "Essays  on  the  most  Important  Subjects  in  Relig- 
ion," twenty-tive  in  number,  were  published  in  the  years 


1792—1802.]     TO  LEAVING  LONDON".  213 

1793,  1794;  "Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress,  with  Orig- 
inal Notes,"  in  1794,  1795;  the  twenty-one  "Sermons  on 
Select  Subjects,"  with  some  prayers  for  families  annexed 
to  them,  in  179fi;  "The  Warrant  and  Nature  of  Faith  in 
Christ  Considered,"  in  1 797;  and  "Four  Sermons  on  Repent- 
ance unto  Life — The  Evil  of  Sin — The  Love  of  Christ — 
and  the  Promise  of  the  Holy  Spirit,"  in  1802. — In  all  these 
works  the  author's  aim  was  to  explain  and  illustrate  the 
great  truths  of  Christianity,  and  to  point  out  tlieir  holy  ten- 
dency. They  have  all  been  repeatedly  printed;  particular- 
ly the  Essaj^s  eight  or  nine  times  hi  England,  besides  Amer- 
ican editions.  This  appears  to  have  been,  very  justly,  a 
favorite  production,  both  with  the  author  and  the  public.  It, 
as  well  as  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  was  first  published  in 
numbers:  each  Essay  forming  a  separate  number,  price  one 
penny;  and  the  period  of  publication  being  once  a  fortnight. 
March  14,  1798,  the  author  writes,  "I  compute  that  I  have 
printed  nearly  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  numbers: 
about  one  hundred  and  five  thousand  I  have  sold:  the  rest  I 
have  dispersed" — that  is,  given  away,  or  scattered  in  his 
walks  and  journeys;  for  in  this  way  he  was  always  a  con- 
siderable distributor  of  tracts.  One  of  these  Essays,  "on  the 
Ten  Commandments,"  is  also  on  the  list  of  the  Religious 
Tract  Society,  and  is  widely  circulated  through  that  channel. 

The  Sermons  were  undertaken  at  the  instance  of  Mr. 
Wilberforce,  and  the  late  Mr.  Henry  Thornton,  and  were 
published  by  subscription." — The  "Treatise  on  Faith" 
was  composed,  as  the  title-page  expresses,  "with  reference 
to  various  controversies  on  the  subject."  In  a  letter  writ- 
ten at  the  time  (Dec.  29,  1796,)  the  author  says:  I  am 
about  to  wrijte  a  pamphlet  on  the  sinner's  zvarrant  to  be- 
lieve in  Christ,  and  the  nature  of  jnsiKy'ing  faith,  by  the  de- 
sire of  several  of  my  brethren;  as  the  American  divines, 
especially  Hopkins,  with  those  who  hold  the  negative  of 
the  modern  question,  have  run  into  one  extreme,  and  ma- 
ny others  into  the  contrary,  particularly  Mr.  Abraham  Booth 
in  a  late  publication  entitled,  "Glad  Tidings."  I  do  not 
mean  to  engage  in  controversy;  but  to  state  what  I  think 
the  scriptural  view  of  the  subject,  clearing  it  from  objec- 
tions, and  guarding  against  abuses,  or  answering  arguments, 
without  taking  notice  of  the  individuals  who  have  urged 
them." 

The  modern  question  here   mentioned,  but  happily  un- 
known in  many  parts  of  the  kingdom,  is  no  other  than  this, 


214         FINISHING  HIS  COMMENTARY      [Cjiap.  XI, 

whether  it  is  the  duty  of  a  sinner  to  believe  in  Christ,  or  to 
yield  any  spiritual  obedience  to  the  calls  of  God's  word! 
and  consequently  whether  he  is  to  be  exhorted  to  any  such 
obedience! 

In  the  year  1798,  several  clergymen  in  the  metropolis, 
impressed  with  the  serious  aspect  of  our  affairs  as  a  nation, 
"agreed  together  to  preach,  in  rotation,  weekly  lectures 
in  each  other's  churches  and  chapels,"  bearing  upon  the 
subject:  and  in  the  ibllowing  year  my  father  drew  up  at 
their  request,  and  pubhshed  with  their  approbation,  "Ob- 
eervations  on  the  Signs  and  Duties  of  the  Present  Times." 
These  lectures  were  continued  till  1802,  when  the  peace 
of  Amiens  was  concluded,  and  my  father  then  closed  them 
by  preaching  and  printing  a  sermon  on  Psalm  cxvi,  2,  "Be- 
cause he  hath  inclined  his  ear  unto  me,  therefore  will  I 
call  upon  him  as  long  as  I  live."  Besides  these,  he  pub- 
lished fast  sermons  in  1793  and  1794,  and  a  thanksgiving 
sermon  in  I798j  and  sermons  of  the  same  description  were 
included  in  the  volume  already  noticed. 

One  sermon  may  deserve  to  be  more  particularly  men- 
tioned, because  of  the  occasion  which  produced  it.  In  the 
year  180'J  was  formed  "The  Society  for  Missions  to  Africa 
and  the,  Ii^ast,  instituted  by  Members  of  the  Established 
Church;"  which  designation  has  been  since  exchanged  for 
that  of  "The  Church  Missionary  Society  for  Africa  and  the 
East."  The  prosperity  to  which  this  institution  bus  attained; 
the  extent  of  its  operations;  and  the  divine  blessing  which 
has  so  evidently  rested  on  its  labors;  cause  it  now  to  draw 
the  attention  of  the  Christian  world,  and  dispose  us  to  in- 
quire, with  feelings  of  interest,  into  its  origin.  The  honor 
of  giving  it  birth  belongs  to  my  father  in  common  with  sev- 
eral dear  friends,  with  whom  he  esteemed  it  one  of  the 
chief  blessings  of  his  life  to  be  associated.  Among  these  (to 
mention  no  surviving  ones,)  were  the  Rev.  Messrs.  New- 
ton, Foster,  Cecil,  Venn,  Goode,  and  that  distinguished  lay- 
man, Mr.  Henry  Thornton.  Mr.  Venn,  indeed,  has  been 
pronounced  the  father  of  the  Society:  and,  if  to  have  taken 
a  very  active  and  zealous  part  in  its  first  formation;  to  have 
had,  perhaps,  the  principal  share  in  organizing  and  mould- 
ing it  into  shape,  and  in  conducting  it  through  certain  deli- 
cate artd  difficult  intricacies  which  it  had  to  encounter  at 
its  outset;  entitles  him  to  this  appellation,  it  certainly  be- 
longs lo  hira.  But,  if  to  have  been  one  of  the  first  and 
most  urgent  in  pressing   upon  his  brethren  the  duty  and 


1792—1802.]        TO  LEAVING  LONDON.  21& 

necessity  of  forming  some  such  institution,  as  well  as 
among  the  most  active  in  carrying  the  design  into  effect, 
establishes  a  right  to  such  a  distinction,  then  must  my  fa- 
ther be  allowed  to  share  it  with  him.  And  accordingly  he 
was  thus  commemorated  in  the  Report  of  the  Society  made 
at  its  last  anniversary.  The  fact,  I  believe,  is  this:  the 
London  Missionary  Society,  then  recently  formed,  had  at- 
tracted great  public  notice,  and  excited  much  discussion. 
Among  other  places,  this  was  the  case  in  a  private  society  of 
clergymen  meeting  once  a  fortnight  for  friendly  discussion; 
and  the  ground  which  my  father,  whose  mind  had  always 
been  peculiarly  alive  to  such  subjects,  there  took  was  this 
— that  it  was  their  bounden  duty  to  attempt  somewhat  more 
than  they  had  done,  either  by  joining  the  Missionary  So- 
ciety just  mentioned,  or,  which  would  be  much  to  be 
preferred^  if  practicable,  by  forming  a  new  one  among 
members  of  the  establishment:  and  from  these  discussions 
sprang  the  Church  Missionary  Society.  My  father  says  of 
it,  in  a  letter  dated  Oct.  29,  1800:  "I  had  a  considerable 
share  in  setting  this  business  in  motion,  and  I  should  wish  to 
try  what  can  be  done:  but  I  am  apt  to  fear,  that,  like  most 
of  my  plans,  it  will  come  to  little."  It  is  needless  to  say 
with  what  joy  and  gratitude  he  lived  to  See  these  fears  dis- 
persed, and  all  his  expectations  exceeded. — So  long  as  he 
continued  in  London,  he  acted  as  the  secretary  of  the  So- 
ciety; and,  in  the  country,  at  a  subsequent  period,  (as  we 
shall  hereafter  have  frccasion  to  relate,)  he  became  the  tu- 
tor of  its  missionaries.  At  the  anniversary,  Whit-Tuesday, 
1801,  he  was  called  upon  to  preach  the  first  sermon  before 
the  Society;  which  was  published  with  the  Report. 

I  shall  here  insert  the  commemoration  of  his  services 
above  alluded  to,  as  made  at  the  anniversary  meeting  of  the 
Society  in  1821,  a  few  weeks  after  his  death. 

"In  recording  the  gratitude  of  the  Society  to  its  living 
and  active  friends,  the  committee  are  reminded  of  the  de- 
parture to  his  eternal  rest  of  one  who  may  be  justly  denom- 
inated a  father  of  the  Society.  The  late  Reverend  Thomas 
Scott,  with  his  once  active  coadjutors  and  brethren,  Mr. 
Venn  and  Mr.  Goode,  and  with  the  late  Mr.  Terrington,  (a 
steady  and  assiduous  member  of  the  committee  for  the  last 
eighteen  years) — gone  also  to  their  reward — may  bejtruly 
said,  with  others  who  are  still  spared  to  labor,  to  have  laid 
in  faith  and  prayer,  the  foundation  of  that  edifice  which  is 
now  rising  to  view  with  augmented  strength  and  usefulness 


216  FINISING  HIS  COMMENTARY      [Chap.  XI. 

every  year.  As  the  first  preacher  before  the  Society,  and 
for  its  first  two  years  its  secretary,  our  departed  friend, — 
with  that  comprehensive  knowledge  of  the  heart  and  of 
scripture,  which  stamped  on  his  sentiments  an  early  maturi- 
ty, that  for  almost  half  a  century  grew  more  mellow,  but 
without  withering  or  decay, — laid  down  for  us  those  prin- 
ciples of  action,  stimulated  us  by  those  motives,  encouraged 
us  by  those  promises,  and  suggested  those  practical  meas- 
ures, the  truth  and  wisdom  of  which  are  receiving  fresh 
evidence  every  returning  year.  When  he  could  no  longer 
take  a  personal  share  in  our  dehberations  and  proceedings, 
he  still  rendered  to  the  Society  the  most  important  aid,  by 
charging  himself  with  the  instruction  of  several  of  its  mis- 
sionaries. We  have  heard,  in  this  place,  from  their  own 
mouths,  the  most  grateful  testimony  to  his  able  instructions 
and  his  paternal  care:  and  when  his  growing  infirmities  had 
disquahfied  him  for  this  labor  of  love,  he  ceased  not,  to  his 
latest  hours,  to  pour  out  fervent  prayers  for  the  gracious  in- 
fluences of  the  Holy  Spirit,  on  all  the  labors  both  of  this 
Society  and  of  every  other  kindred  institution,  which,  in 
these  latter  days,  is  made  instrumental  in  accomplishing  the 
purposes  of  divine  mercy  toward  the  world.  He  rests  from 
his  labors^  and  his  works  follow  him.'''' 

Within  the  period  of  which  we  are  treating,  my  father 
also  projected  some  works  which  he  never  accomplished, 
One  was  the  prophecies,  and  the  evidence  furnished  by 
them  for  the  divine  inspiration  of  the  diiferent  parts  of 
scripture.  It  appears  that  he  first  conceived  the  idea  of 
such  a  work  in  1793-  In  1796  he  informed  me  that  he  had 
"in  good  earnest  set  about  it."  His  plan  was  to  make  it,  in 
some  respects,  more  comprehensive  than  Bishop  Newton's 
Dissertations,  and  throughout  more  adapted  to  unlearned 
readers.  He  intended  to  publish  it  in  small  numbers,  after 
the  manner  of  his  Essays;  and  hoped  by  this  means  to  ob- 
tain for  it  considerable  circulation,  and  to  render  it  con- 
ducive to  counteract  the  skepticism  and  infideUty  of  the 
times.  But  other  more  pressing  engagements  coming  on, 
the  design  was  first  suspended,  and  then  dropped. 

Another  work,  which  I  must  much  regret  his  not  having 
executed,  was  of  my  own  suggestion,  on  my  entering  into 
orders.  It-was  to  be  a  series  of  letters  on  the  pastoral  of- 
fice, and  its  various  duties.  He  entered  heartily  into  the 
design:  and,  being  prevented  from  accomplishing  it  at  that 


J 


1792—1802.]        TO  LEAVING  LONDON.  217 

time,  resumed  it  on  his  youngest  son's  ordination,  but  never 
found  leisure  to  perforin  it. 

In  1798,  as  also  in  some  subsequent  years,  the  health  of 
his  family  requiring  them  to  spend  some  time  at  the  sea- 
side, he  was  led,  with  advantage  to  his  own  health,  to  make 
numerous  voyages  in  the  packets  between  London  and  Mar- 
gate: and  this  circumstance  gives  us  occasion  to  present  him 
to  the  reader  in  a  new  situation.  His  conduct  amid  the 
motley  groupe  on  board  of  these  vessels  was  strikingly  char- 
acteristic, and  produced  a  variety  of  interesting  or  amusing 
occurrences,  of  which  I  can  furnish  but  a  slight  account. — 
He  determined,  if  possible,  to  make  the  new  scene,  on 
which  he  was  entering,  an  occasion  of  usefulness.  Instead,  . 
therefore,  of  retiring  within  himself,  in  a  sort  of  dignified 
silence,  as  a  clergyman  might  feel  inclined  to  do  under  such 
circumstances,  he  sought  conversation.  He  observed  and 
inquired  into  all  that  passed;  made  himself  acquainted  with 
all  the  parts  of  the  vessel,  and  the  process  of  managing  it, 
the  course  steered,  and  the  various  objects  to   be  noticed. 

He  held  himself  ready  to  take  advantage  of  all  that  oc- 
curred. He  rebuked  immorality,  and  encountered  skepti- 
cism and  infidehty  (then,  as  at  present,  frequently  avowed,) 
wherever  they  presented  themselves.  Thus  he  aimed  to 
gain  attention,  and  to  find  an  opening  for  the  instruction 
which  he  desired  to  convey.  In  general  he  succeeded. 
Frequently  he  entered  into  arguments  against  the  corrupt 
principles  of  the  day,  both  religious  and  poHtical;  on  which 
occasions,  by  uniting,  as  he  could  readily  do,  much  viracity 
with  his  accustomed  force,  and  always  maintaining  good 
temper,  (for  he  determined  that  nothing  should  affront  him,) 
he  generally  drew  a  company  around  him,  carried  convic- 
tion to  many  bystanders,  and  often  silenced  his  opponents. 
The  discussion  commonly  terminated  in  a  distribution  of 
tracts,  chiefly  his  own  pubUcations,  which  he  always  car- 
ried with  him  in  traTelling,  for  the  purpose.  His  maxim 
was,  that,  if  his  books  sold,  he  could  afford  such  a  dispersion; 
if  they  did  not,  he  was  only  giving  away  waste  paper.  It 
may  be  added,  that  his  conduct  on  board  gained  him  much 
esteem  among  the  sailors,  who  always  welcomed  him,  and 
described  him  as  'the  gentleman  whom  nothing  could  made 
angry.' 

Though  however  he  would  never  be   offended  himself, 
even  by  scurrility  and  abuse,  yet  he  sometimes  deeply  of- 
fended   others,  by   reproving    their  impiety,  or   exposing 
19 


218  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

their  attempts  to  defend  what  was  contrary  to  good  morals. 
One  instance  it  may  be  amusing  to  mention,  as  furnishing  a 
specimen  of  the  coarseness  with  which  he  was  sometimes 
assailed.  A  man,  who  it  appeared  was  a  brewer  in  London, 
having  for  some  time  endeavored,  in  his  way,  to  support  the 
cause  of  irreligion,  and  feeling  himself  foiled  by  my  father's 
arguments  and  animadversions,  at  length  so  far  lost  his  tem- 
per, as  to  wish  that  he  'had  him,  and  a  dozen  more  such 
parsons,  at  his  disposal — he  would  boil  them  in  his  copperl' 
Such  an  ebullition  had,  of  course,  the  effect  of  raising  the 
voice  of  the  whole  company  against  its  author;  who,  in 
consequence,  withdrew,  and  was  seen  no  more  during  the 
remainder  of  the  voyage. 

On  other  occasions,  the  result  was  very  different;  and 
©nee,  at  least,  at  the  general  request  of  the  company,  he 
expounded  and  prayed  with  them  in  the  cabin,  while  the 
vessel  lay  at  anchor. 

Few  of  us,  I  presume,  would  feel  ourselves  competent  to 
adopt  such  a  line  of  conduct,  in  a  similar  situation:  but  let 
ys  not  therefore  censure  what  is  above  our  reach.  In  one 
who  could  worthily  sustain  this  part,  and  was  induced  to  do 
so  by  zeal  for  God  and  unfeigned  love  for  the  souls  of  men, 
I  must  pronounce  it  highly  honorable.  We  may  venture  to 
say  also  that  it  is  borne  out  by  the  highest  examples. 
What  other  than  this  was  the  mode  of  teaching  employed 
by  the  prince  of  the  philosophers,  by  one  of  the  chief  of  the 
apostles,  and  by  him  who  was  greater,  beyond  comparison, 
than  all  sages,  and  even  than  all  inspired  apostles?"* 


CHAPTER   XIL 


LETTERS  BELONGING  TO  THE  PERIOD  OF  THE  PRECEDING 
CHAPTEK. 

Having  thus  detailed  such  particulars  as  I  have  been  able 
to  collect  reltitive  to  the  time  that  my  father  continued  in 
London  after  the  completion  of  his  Commentary,  1  shall  now 
present  the  reader  with  various  additional  extracts  of  letters^ 

•  See  the   Memorabiliji  of  Socrates:  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  xvii, 
16 — IS,  AudKxy'i'r,  and  the  Gospels,  passim. 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  219 

illustrative  of  his  ministerial  situation,  his  views,  and  the 
state  of  his  mind  at  that  period. 

To  his  correspondent  in  Northumberland,  the  distant  con- 
nexion by  marriage,  already  repeatedly  mentioned,  he  thus 
writes. 

"September  3,  1794.  The  years  that  you  were  more  im- 
mediately acquainted  with  me,  were  certainly  the  most  com- 
fortable, in  respect  of  religion,  that  I  ever  experienced.  I,  as 
well  as  you,  have  since  made  many  painful  discoveries  about 
my  own  heart,  and  have  had  far  more  acquaintance  with 
the  devices  of  Satan  than  I  then  had:  yet  hitherto  the  Lord 
hath  helped;  and  the  grand  principles,  which  I  then  inculcat- 
ed, rise  in  my  estimation  every  year:  nor  can  ^hat,  which 

really  humbles  us,    eventually  do    us    harm My 

situation  as  a  minister  is  replete  with  difficulties,  and  I  do 
not  see  the  fruits  of  my  labors  as  I  used  to  do;  yet  I  trust  I 
do  not  labor  in  vain We  have  a  peaceable  habita- 
tion: and,  after  all  humiliating  circumstances,  are  favored 
with  the  intimate  friendship  of  some  of  the  most  excellent 
of  the  earth.  Nothing  but  sin  and  the  effects  of  it  could 
prevent  our  happiness:  for,  though  I  am  often  very  poorly 
with  the  asthma,  and  other  complaints,  and  my  wife  is  far 
from  healthy;  that  would  not  mar  our  comfort,  if  we  could 
live  a  mft^e  holy  life.  But  happiness  is  reserved  for  heav- 
en; and  hope,  with  a  few  earnests,  must  suffice  on  earth. 
We  are  patients  in  an  hospital;  regimen,  medicine,  and  cure 
are  at  present  chiefly  to  be  attended  to;  we  shall  shortly  be 
discharged  cured,  and  that  will  eternally  make  up  for  all. 
— In  the  mean  time  we  must  continue  to  live  by  faith  in  our 
crucified  Redeemer,  whose  blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin. 
And,  though,  like  pardoned  rebels,  who  have  been  lamed  in 
rebellion,  our  services  manifest  our  sinfulness;  yet  let  us 
pra}'  to  be  enabled  to  aim  at  adorning  and  recommending 
his  gospel,  and  to 'declare  his  love,  and  the  freedom  of  his 
service,  to  those  around  us,  and  those  that  shall  come  after 
us. — Pray  for  me  and  mine. — The  Lord  bless  you  and 
your's." 

"November  14,  1794.  I  trust  the  Lord  will  enable  you 
to  go  forward  with  increasing  earnestness  and  comfort,  and 
that  your  united  prayers,  example,  and  endeavors,  will  be 
prospered  to  the  good  of  others  belonging  to  you,  who  are 
yet  far  off;  and  especially  that  your  children  will  be  brought 
up  for  God,  and  live  to  his  glory.  In  these  things  we  may 
all  hope  to  bring  forth  fruit,  that  shall  remain  when  we  are 


220  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

gone  to  a  better  world. — But,  alas!  we  have  so  many  things 
to  conflict  with,  both  in  our  own  hearts,  and  around  us, 
that  we  are  often  discouraged  in  our  prayers  and  endeavors 
for  others;  and  Satan  seems  to  stand  by  as  an  accuser,  to 
represent  that  we  are  not  proper  persons  to  be  made  in- 
struments of  good  to  others,  who  are  so  sinful  in  all  respects 
ourselves.  Yet  this  is  a  mere  temptation:  the  Lord  does 
all  his  work  by  instruments  who  are  both  unworthy  and  in- 
sufficient in  themselves;  and  they,  whose  effectual  fcnent 
prayers  have  availed  much^  most  certainly  had  as  humble  an 
opinion  of  themselves  and  their  services,  as  we  can  have; 
yea,  more  so,  in  proportion  to  their  superior  holiness. — It 
is  in  this  attention  to  our  families,  connexions,  and  circles, 
and  by  our  prayers  for  the  church  of  God,  and  for  our  coun- 
try, that  we  should  endeavor  to  serve  God  and  our  genera- 
tion in  this  turbulent  and  perilous  time,  when  every  thing 
externally  dreadful  is  apprehended  by  many  from  outward 
appearances,  and  when  the  spiritual  mind  will  apprehend 
•till  greater  evils  from  the  atheism,  infidelity,  impiety,  and 
enormous  profligacy,  which  make  such  rapid  progress  on 
every  side.*  But  we  should  be  careful  to  leave  political 
disputes  to  worldly  people:  for  engaging  in  them,  on  either 
side,  discredits  the  gospel,  and  damps  the  soul  as  to  religion, 
and  brings  a  curse  into  every  society  into  which  it  finds  ad- 
mission." 

"February  11,  1795.  Those  professors  who  seem  not 
to  feel  such  conflicts,  and  find  no  such  difficulty  in  living  up 
to  their  rule,  evidently  aim  low,  and  do  not  measure  their 
experiences  and  attainments  by  the  scriptural  standard. 
The  blessing  is  pronounced  by  our  Lord  on  those  that 
hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness;  but  hunger  and  thirst 
imply  the  desire,  the  ardent  desire,  of  what  is  not  yet  ob- 
tained; and  in  heaven,  when  such  gracious  desires  shall  be 
fully  answered,  we  shall  hunger  no  more*  and  thirst  no  more. 
In  the  mean  time,  it  is  well  to  set  our  mark  high,  that  we 
TBSiy press  forward^  forgetting  the  things  that  are  behind^  and 
reaching  forth  to  those  that  are  before:  and,  as  far  as  I  can 
judge  by  your  letter,  this  is  the  present  frame  of  your  spirit. 
When  we  feel  our  need  of  forgiveness  in  this  and  the  other 
respect,  and  of  grace  to  fill  up  our  station  properly  to  the 
honor  of  the  gospel,  we  know  what  to  pray  for,  and  shall 
pray  with  our  hearts:  but,  when  our  convictions  are  more 
general,  and  we  are  not  so  particularly  acquainted  with  our 
wants,  enemies,  and  evil  propensities,  our  prayers  wjU  b^ 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  221 

more  languid;  and  words,  good  in  general,  but  not  feelingly 
the  language  of  our  hearts,  will  constitute  our  petitions. — 
For  my  part,  I  am  not  able,  after  twenty  years  endea?oring 
after  it,  to  rise  a  whit  above  a  poor  sinner,  trusting  in  free 
mercy,  through  the  atoning  blood;  and  a  poor  beggar,  who 
might  as  easily  live  in  heal|h  without  food,  as  serve  God  one 
day  without  fresh  supplies  of  wisdom,  strength,  and  grace, 
sought,  in  earnest  prayer,  from  the  fulness  of  Christ.  If  thi» 
be  neglected,  I  find  all  good  declines,  all  evil  revives:  and 
am  sensible  that  nothing  which  has  passed  would  keep  me 
from  the  vilest  crimes,  of  which  my  wicked  heart  is  capable, 
if  this  could  be  wholly  suspended.  Yet,  I  trust  the  Lord 
does  put;  and  wiW  jout  his  fear  into  my  heart,  that  I  may  not  de- 
part from  him:  and  my  view  of  final  perseverance  is  this, 
that  the  Lord  has  engaged  to  keep  me  (if  indeed  I  am  a 
believer,)  empty,  poor,  hungering,  praying,  and  living  % 
faith  on  the  fulness  of  Christ,  till  he  bring  me  to  glory:  and 
then,  all  the  painful  experience  I  have  had  of  my  own  weak- 
ness and  sinfulness,  will  tune  my  songs  of  praise  io  him  that 
washed  me  from  my  sins  in  his  own  bloody  through  the  count- 
less ages  of  eternity — Yet  God  forbid  that  I  should  abuse 
the  gospel!  I  trust  I  only  desire  to  live  that  I  may  serve  the 
Lord,  and  recommend  his  gospel:  and  perfect  holiness  and 
obedience  are  the  heaven  I  hope  and  long  for.  But  the 
more  I  do  in  the  Lord's  service,  the  greater  debtor  1  am  to 
his  grace,  for  the  will,  power,  pardon,  and  acceptance:  and 
the  more  1  aim  to  do,  the  deeper  sense  I  have  of  my  need  of 
the  blood  and  righteousness  of  Christ,  as  my  only  title  to 
the  heavenly  inheritance. 

"Perhaps  this  account  of  my  feelings  may  shew  you, 
that  your  case  is  not  lingular;  and  I  feel  myself  pecu- 
liarly interested  in  your  concerns  and  that  of  your  relatives; 
to  whom,  with  your  minister,  pray  give  my  kind  remem- 
brance.— 1  feel  the  same  difficulties  also  about  my  children, 
of  which  you  speak:  but  I  endeavor  to  use  means  and  to 
commit  them  to  the  Lord,  and  thus  to  cast  my  care  on  Him. 
Yet  even  here  1  need  forgiveness;  and  am  conscious  that 
neither  my  example,  prayers,  nor  instructions,  are  what 
they  should  be.  Thus  boasting  is  excluded.  I  have  no 
claim  for  myself  or  them,  nor  any  plea,  but  God's  mercy, 
and  the  encouraging  promises  of  his  word;  which,  though 
general,  give  hope.  And  thus  I  proceed,  and  leave  the  mat- 
ter with  him. — Mr.  Newton  is  tolerably  well,  perhaps  the 
happiest  man  to  be  met  with.  But  he  grows  old,  and  seems 
*i9 


222  LETTERS.  [Chap.  Xll. 

in  all  respects  to  break. — I  hope  I  shall  not  forget  to  pray  for 
you:  I  beg  the  prayers  of  you  all,  for  1  much  need  them. — 
I  remain,  most  sincerely,  your  affectionate  friend,  and  well- 
wisher." 

Soon  after  this  period  my  correspondence  with  him,  tirst 
from  Cambridge,  and  afterwards  from  Hull,  began.  I  only 
wish  that  what  I  insert  from  his  letters  may  not  appear  to 
reflect  upon  myself,  for  having  no  more  profited  by  such 
excellent  advice. 

The  following  extract  from  his  first  letter  to  me  at  col- 
lege, may  convey  useful  counsel  to  young  persons,  particu- 
larly to  those  in  a  similar  situation: — 

"November  2,  1795.  Your  have  hitherto  been  kept 
greatly  out  of  the  way  of  worldly  associates,  and  assure 
ycwrself  you  have  lost  nothing  by  it;  for  the  more  they 
are  known,  the  clearer  must  be  the  conviction  to  every 
reflecting  mind,  that  they  can  be  of  no  advantage  to  a  man^ 
in  any  sense,  without  a  tenfold  greater  disadvantage.  En- 
deavor, therefore  to  cultivate  a  courteous,  kind,  and  cheer- 
ful disposition  and  behavior  towards  all  sorts  of  persons; 
avoiding  moroseness,  affectation,  and  singularity,  in  things 
indifferent;  but  admit  no  one  to  your  familiarity,  who  does 
not  seem  to  yon,  and  to  more  experienced  judges,  to  have 
the  fear  and  love  of  God  in  his  heart.  Conciliate  by  an  ami- 
able deportment  such  as  are  strangers  to  the  ways  of  relig- 
ion, in  order  to  allure  them  up  to  your  ground;  but  take  not  a 
single  step  down  upon  their  ground:  lest,  instead  of  your 
drawing  them  out  of  the  mire,  they  draw  you  in.  If  you  act 
consistently  and  prudently,  and  by  a  moderate  attention  to 
your  studies,  in  subserviency  to  the  one  thing  needful,  and 
to  future  usefulness,  secure  a  reputable  standing  in  the  col- 
lege; the  careless  or  vicious  may  affect  to  despise  you,  but 
in  their  hearts  they  will  respect  you.  I  say  a  moderate  ap- 
plication; for  I  apprehend  that  very  great  exertions  are 
not  only  injurious  to  the  health  and  spirits;  tend  to  form  a 
man  to  habits  that  are  unpleasant,  or  to  a  kind  of  oddity; 
and  exceedingly  interfere  with  the  growth  of  grace  and 
every  holy  affection  in  the  soul;  but  they  counteract  their 
own  end;  blunt  and  overstretch  the  mental  powers;  and, 
after  surprising  progress  for  a  time,  incapacitate  a  person 
for  making  any  progress  at  all.  Ambition  *of  distinction, 
more  than  love  of  knowledge,  is  the  spur  to  this  too  eager 
course:  but  neither  one  nor  the  other  should  be  your 
primum  mobile;  but  a  desire  to  acquire  that  competency  of 
useful  knowledge,  which  may  fit  you  for  glorifying  God^ 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  223 

and  serving  your  generation.  This  will  also  teach  you  to 
take  care  of  your  health  and  spirits;  to  accustom  yourself 
to  corporeal  as  well  as  mental  exertion;  (the  want  of  which 
is  severely  felt  by  most  of  our  ministers  who  are  academ- 
ical men;)  to  cultivate  that  kind  of  behavior,  which  may 
render  you  as  acceptable  as  truth  and  conscientiousness 
will  let  a  man  be  in  this  world — the  want  of  which  is  one 
of  my  principal  disadvantages;  and  so  to  travel  on  at  a  sober 
rate,  without  over-pushing  the  horse  at  the  beginning  of  the 
journey. — Excessive  eagerness  in  any  particular  study  has 
also  this  disadvantage,  that  it  is  apt  to  render  a  man  rather 
learned  than  wise,  or  even  knowing;  as  over-eating  renders 
a  man  full,  but  does  not  nourish  him.  They  who  read  too 
much,  do  not  digest:  they  learn  what  others  say,  but  thej 
do  not  make  it  their  own  by  reflection,  or  distinguish  be- 
tween the  precious  and  the  vile.  But  moderate  study,  with 
frequent  pauses  for  reflection,  useful  conversation,  and  ex- 
ercise, adds  more  to  real  knowledge,  and  leaves  time  to 
apply  it  to  practical  uses. — You  certainly  should  not  waste 
time;  but  stinting  yourself  to  so  much  ofthis,  orthe  other 
every  day  may  cramp  you;  render  your  mind  uncomfort- 
able; and  unfit  you  for  the  exercises  of  religion — without 
which  nothing  else  will  really  prosper. — I  would  advise 
you  to  write  your  own  thoughts  on  subjects  frequently; 
and  try  to  get  the  habit  of  doing  it  in  Latin:  it  may  be  of 
use  to  you,  some  time,  beyond  what  you  now  perceive. — 
But  whatever  you  read  or  write,  compare  all  with  the 
Bible:  study  divinity  as  a  Christian,  and  as  one  intended  to 
be  a  minister;  and  other  things  only  in  subordination  to  it; 
for  this  is  your  ge7ieral,  and  your  particular  calling  too. — 
I  pray  the  Lord  to  be  your  Guard,  Guide,  Father  and  Com- 
forter!" 

Having  consulted  him  on  the  subject  of  joining  some 
small  companies  of  young  men,  who  met  in  college  for  re- 
ligious exercises,  on  the  Sunday  evenings,  1  received  the 
following  answer: 

''November  13,  1795.  There  are  two  ways  in  which 
any  practice  may  be  deemed  irregular;  and  in  each  of 
them  concealment  may  perhaps  be  expedient.  A  practice 
(good  in  itself,  I  mean,)  may  be  irregular,  as  contrary  to 
the  express  rules  of  the  society  to  which  a  man  has  volun- 
tarily joined  himself:  or  it  may  be  irregular,  as  contrary  to 
the  customs,  notions,  or  inclinations  of  such  persons  as  have 
influence  in  that  society;  and  thus  it  may  seem  to  oppose 


224  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

their  authority,  by  opposing:  their  private  will.  Thus  cler- 
gymen often,  in  some  particulars,  act  contrary  to  the  wishes 
of  their  diocesan,  and  seem  to  oppose  his  authority;  when 
they  do  not  act  contrary  to  any  of  those  laws,  by  which  his 
authority  is  exercised  and  limited. — If  authority  be  absolute, 
we  ought  not  to  enter  willingly  into  any  society,  without 
determining  to  conform  in  all  things  to  the  will  of  the  ruler: 
if  limited,  we  should  purpose  to  conform  to  the  extent  of 
those  limitations.  I  suppose  the  practice  of  your  friends  is 
not  contrary  to  the  express  rules  of  the  college,  or  of  the 
university;  and,  as  to  the  contrariety  to  the  sentiments  or 
inclinations  of  such  persons  as  evidently  do  not  favor  vital 
godliness,  1  do  not  think  that  any  real  objection:  though  the 
express  prohibition  of  one  in  authority,  even  if  it  were  not 
strictly  legal,  would  have  great  weight  in  my  mind,  where 
the  practice  was  not  an  essential  duty. — As  far  as  these  two 
things,  namely,  an  express  rule  and  an  express  prohibition,  do 
not  interfere,  I  think  you  are  quite  at  liberty  to  use  every 
means,  that  appears  to  you,  and  your  pious  friends  and  sen- 
iors, conducive  to  your  mutual  edification:  and  even  an  ex- 
press rule,  if  grown  obsolete,  and  disused  by  general  con- 
sent, does  not  appear,  in  all  cases,  an  exception,  unless  those 
in  authority  declare  their  purpose  of  exacting  obedience  to 
it. 

"If  on  such  grounds  as  these  you  and  your  friends  see 
the  way  clear,  and  have  no  consciousness  of  acting  contrary 
to  actual  or  implicit  engagements,  concealment  seems  to  be 
'no  more  than  a  matter  deemed  at  present  expedient;  as  we 
do  not  think  it  riglrt  to  tell  every  one  when  we  retire  for 
prayer,  or  when  we  give  to  the  poor.  Yet  it  appears  to 
me  advisable  not  to  be  too  anxious  about  concealment;  lest 
that  anxiety  and  precaution  should  appear,  which  might 
excite  more  suspicion,  or  give  more  ground  for  censure, 
than  the  thing  itself  There  is  a  aiodest,  prudent  secresy; 
and  there  is  a  timid  jealous  secresy,  which  lead-s  into  temp- 
tation, and  is  quite  needless  in  a  good  cause,  and  with  a  good 
conscience. 

'^1  do  not  quite  understand  whether  your  friends  actually 
keep  out  of  the  reach  of  the  Conventicle  Act,  or  not  If 
no  vnore  ihim  Jive  meet  in  one  place,  1  can  see  no  manner  of 
objection  on  the  score  oT  ecclesiastical  irregularity.  If 
they  do  meet  in  greater  nuaibers,  the  matter  demands  more 
consideration.  1  look  on  that  Act  as  a  direct  opposition  of 
human  authority  to  the  word  of  God;  and  I  caimot  deem 


J  792—1801.]  LETTERS.  22S 

myself  bound,  inforo  coyiscientice^  to  obey  it:  but  at  the  same 
time  expediency  may  often  sugg-est  obedience.  It  better 
becomes  ministers  and  others  of  some  standing  to  deviate 
from  the  injunctions  of  a  bad  law,  and  by  their  example  to 
protest  against  it,  and  to  venture  the  consequences;  while 
their  conduct  in  all  other  things  has  long  shewn  them  will- 
ing to  obey  in  all  things  lawful;  than  young  men  to  set  out 
with  such  disregard  to  any  rules,  as  may  lead  others  to 
think  they  mean  to  set  up  their  own  will  as  their  rule. — 
Places  and  connexions  also  make  a  dift'erence 

"A  very  strong  reason  indeed  would  be  necessary  to  justify 
your  dechningthe  proposal  of  your  friends,  as  it  would  tend 
to  interrupt  that  cordiality,  on  which  much  of  your  comfort, 
and  security  against  other  connexions,  depends.  At  the 
same  time  I  feel  strongly  the  force  of  your  other  objection; 
and  would  have  you  plead  for  being,  for  a  time,  a  mere 
hearer.  You  may  urge  that  3'ou  have  heard  me  say, 
that  the  seniors  in  all  such  societies  should  chiefly  take  the 
lead;  as  it  has  an  unhappy  effect  on  many  youngs  minds  to 
conduct  religious  exercises  too  soon,  or  too  often,  in  the 

presence  of  their  superiors Whatever   may  be   mj 

engagements,  I  can  have  no  more  pleasant,  perhaps  no  more 
useful  employment,  than  what  relates  to  your  spiritual 
progress." 

The  following  account  of  the  methods  adopted  by  one, 
who  had  studied  divine  truth  with  so  much  success,  will 
doubtless  be  interesting  to  the  reader. 

"December  10,  1795.  I  know  not  what  further  direc-' 
tions  to  give  you  respecting  the  manner  of  inquiring  after 
truth,  and  seeking  to  have  it  more  deeply  impressed  on  the 
heart,  and,  as  it  were,  wrought  into  the  judgment  and  affec- 
tions, than  are  already  in  print.  I  find  it  exceedingly  difficult 
to  keep  my  attention  fixed,  or  to  get  my  heart  suitably  af- 
fected, in  reading  and  meditating  upon  truths,  which  have 
become  obvious  and  famihar  by  daily  study:  but  there  are 
times  when  I  find,  that,  while  1  try  to  muse  on  the  subject, 
afire,  as  it  were,  kindles^  and  contemplation  terminates  in 
adoring  gratitude  and  admiring  love. — In  general,  I  think,  I 
have  found  it  advantageous  sometimes  to  read  the  scriptures  . 
with  such  exactness,  as  to  weigh  every  expression,  and  its 
connexions,  as  if  I  were  about  to  preach  on  every  verse;  and 
then  to  apply  the  result  to  my  own  case,  character,  experi- 
ence, and  conduct,  as  if  it  had  been  directly  addressed  to  me 
«^oot  as  a  new  promise  or  revelation,  but  as  a  message  con- 


226  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

taining-  warninsf,  caution,  reproof,  exhortation,  encourage- 
ment or  direction,  according  to  my  previous  or  present  state 
of  mind,  and  mj  peculiar  circumstances.  In  short,  to  make 
the  passages  into  a  kind  of  sermons,  as  if  about  to  preach  to 
others,  and  then  to  turn  the  whole  appHcation  on  myself, 
as  far  as  suited  to  my  case;  as  if  another,  who  fully  knew 
me,  had  been  addressing  me. — At  other  times  I  have  read  a 
passage  more  generally,  and  then  selected  two  or  three  of 
the  most  important  observations  from  it,  and  endeavored  to 
employ  my  mind  in  meditation  on  them,  and  to  consider 
how  they  bore  on  the  state  of  my  heart,  or  on  my  past  life, 
or  on  those  things  which  I  heard  or  observed  in  the  world 
or  the  church;  and  to  compare  them  with  the  variety  of 
sentiment,  experiences,  conduct,  or  prominent  characters, 
with  which  we  become  gradually  more  and  more  acquainted. 
— Thus  I  have  endeavored  to  read  the  scriptures,  and  to  use 
them  as  a  touchstone  to  distinguish  the  precious  from  the  vile^ 
both  at  home  and  abroad. — At  other  times,  having  perhaps 
heard  or  read  the  opinions  of  different  men  on  any  disputed 
subject,  I  have,  in  my  daily  reading  of  the  scriptures,  con- 
stantly kept  those  opinions  in  view,  that  I  might  at  length 
form  my  judgment  on  which  side  truth  lay.  In  doing  this,  I 
have  always  aimed  to  keep  my  mind  from  the  tv/o  extremes, 
on  the  one  hand,  of  giving  up  my  own  opinion,  from  a  kind 
of  false  humility,  and  deference  for  men,  without  being  pre- 
viously convinced  that  1  had  been  mistaken;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  of  assuming  my  opinion  to  be  truth,  so  as  to  ex^ 
»*  elude  light,  especially  if  it  came  from  an  enemy,  or  a  per- 
son not  entitled  to  much  deference.  So  that  I  have  always 
aimed  to  be  open  to  conviction;  to  bring  every  man's  prob- 
able opinion  to  the  touchstone,  and  to  give  it  a  fair  trial,  if 
not  tried  before;  but  not  to  receive  it,  without  plainly  per- 
ceiving its  agreement  with  the  scripture,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  aim,  that  my  heart  might  be  suitably  affected 
with  the  conclusions  of  my  understanding — in  which  I 
have  principally  failed.  But,  a  spirit  of  continual  .prayer, 
mixed  with  reading,  has  been  my  principal  help  in  all 
these  things;  without  which  either  self-wisdom  or  indolent 
dependence  on  human  teaching  will  surely  prevail." 

"February  13, 1796.  I  think  you  are  very  right  in  cul- 
tivating general  knowledge.  .  .  I  trust,  however,  you  will 
not  neglect  the  peculiar  studies  of  the  place,  so  as  not  to 
appear  with  credit  on  proper  occasions.  The  object  in  all 
J' our  studies  should  be,  neither  celebrity,  advantage,  nor 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  227 

knowledge,  for  its  own  sake;  but  furniture  to  enable  you  to 
serve  God  and  your  generation;  and  as  much  credit  as  may 
give  weight  to  your  endeavors  of  that  kind.  Any  friend 
that  has  cultivated  general  knowledge  successfully,  will 
give  you  hints  on  the  best  method  of  doing  it;  and  gleaning 
seems  to  me  an  important  matter.  Learn  from  every  body: 
be  selfish  in  this  respect:  get  all  you  can,  not  only  from 
superior  men,  but  from  the  most  inferior.  But  be  sure  you 
compare  all  your  real  or  supposed  knowledge  with  the 
word  of  God.  If  real,  it  will  elucidate,  and  be  elucidated 
by  it:  if  not,  it  will  be  detected  and  exposed  by  the  touch- 
stone.— At  some  time  or  other,  I  would  advise  you  to  study 
well  the  evidences  of  revelation;  not  merely  in  a  general 
way,  but  so  as  to  be  master  of  the  subject.  Perhaps  it  may 
be  soon  enough  at  present:  but  it  is  a  matter  of  great  im- 
portance in  this  age  especially. — Above  all,  cultivate  per- 
sonal religion.  Let  nothing  be  an  excuse  to  your  mind  for 
being  slight  in  that  matter.  Even  useful  labors  for  the 
good  of  others  may  be  separated  from  diligence  in  the  con- 
cerns of  our  own  souls:  but  it  is  this  which  must  bring  a 
blessing  on  all  else,  and  cause  it  to  proceed  with  life,  and 
yigor." 

The  next  letter  treats  of  an  important  point  of  theology, 
on  which  much  indistinctness  of  conception  appears  fre- 
quently to  prevail. 

"May  7,  1 796.  I  have  not  above  a  sheet  to  write  for  the 
sermons,  or  rather  the  prayers;  and  then  I  mean  to  rest  a 
while;  that  is  from  fagging  as  I  have  lately  done.*  My  parish- 
ioners, or  clerk,  (who  is  a  plasterer)  have  shut  up  my  church 
n  Bread  Street,  to  beautify:  so  that  my  little  congregation, 
which  rather  increased  of  late,  will  now  be  dispersed,  and 
I  shall  have  all  to  begin  over  again.  All  these  things  art 
against  me!  But  all,  I  trust,  will  be  for  me.  ...  I  do  not 
think  you  need  to  have  crossed  out  what  you  wrote  about 
Edwards'" — President  Edwards  on  the  love  of  God;  that  it 
is  not  merely  gratitude,  but  includes  a  deUght  in  the  holy 
excellency  of  the  divine  character  and  perfections.  "I 
firmly  believe  that and never  read  him,  with  suf- 
ficient attention  and  impartiality,  lully  to  understand  that 
part  of  his  plan.  He  may  express  himself,  at  some  times, 
too  absolutely;  but,  if  we  leave  out  the  glorious  perfectioua. 

•  The  answer  to  Paine  was  completed  in  the  same  no  oath  with  thft 
voJura?  of  Seimons. 


228  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XXI. 

of  the  true  God,  which  are  his  loveliness,  or  that  especialfy 
for  which  he  should  be  loved,  how  shall  we  distinguish 
him  from  idols?  I  do  not  mean  from  images,  but  from  im- 
aginary deities,  the  creatures  of  men's  fancy;  who  think 
God  such  an  one  as  themselves,  and  so  worship  and  love  their 
own  invention  and  simiHtude,  instead  of  that  glorious  Being, 
who  makes  himself  known  to  us  by  immediate  revelation. 
Even  in  exercising  gratitude  to  God,  I  must  take  in  the  con- 
sideration of  his  infinite  greatness,  holiness,  and  excellency, 
to  form  a  proper  estimate  of  the  favors  bestowed  on  so  mean 
and  vile  a  sinner;  or  my  gratitude  will  be  no  more  than 
self-love  reflected;  at  least  it  will  not  be  a  pious  and  holy 
affection. — The  whole  plan  of  the  gospel  is  intended  to  ex- 
hibit the  loveliness  af  Jehovah,  in  all  his  harmonious  excel- 
lencies: and  shall  we  not  include  that  loveliness  in  loving 
him?  1  may  be  thankful  to  a  man  whose  character  I  deem 
odious;  I  may  love  the  man  who  never  shewed  me  any  kind- 
ness. But  love  of  excellency,  desire  of  union  and  conform- 
ity, gratitude,  zeal,  &c.  all  unite  in  the  love  of  God,  which 
both  law  and  gospel  require  of  us. — To  love  God  4br  his 
own  sake,'  does  not  mean  so  loving  him,  as  to  have  no  re- 
gard to  our  own  happiness  at  all;  but  so  as  to  seek  our 
happiness  in  admiring,  serving,  and  glorifying  him;  in  bear- 
ing his  image,  and  enjoying  his  favor.  If  Edwards  gpeaks, 
«t  some  times  rather  more  strongly  than  this  seems  to  im- 
ply, I  am  persuaded,  from  the  general  tenor  of  his  writings, 
that  he  does  not  mean  any  thing  mconiistent  with  it — I  do 

not  think  that and meant  to  exclude  love   of  the 

divine  excellency,  as  well  as  gratitude  for  mercies  bestowed 
upon  us;  but  merely  to  oppose  an  abstract  notion,  which 
they  erroneously  suppose  the  American  divines  to  have  ad- 
vanced. At  the  same  time,  I  think  they  and  many  others 
have  imbibed,  and  do  propagate,  an  unhappy  prejudice 
against  these  writers;  and,  for  fear  of  their  system,  they 
often  speak  inconsistently  with  themselves,  and  seem  to  be 
without  fixed  sentiments  in  this  particular;  and  countenance 
certain  sentiments,  which,  did  they  see  their  tendency,  they 
would  abhor.  As  to  the  text — We  love  him,  because  he  first 
loved  us — It  can  only  mean,  that  we  should  never  have  loved 
God,  had  he  not  first  loved  us;  and,  if  we  do  now  love  him 
with  genuine  alTection,  it  is  full  proof  that  we  are  the  objects 
of  his  love;  this  b&mg  the  seal  of  his  Spirit  in  our  hearts. 

''But  I  have  written  more  than  I  can  fairly  afford,  I  would 
have  you  endeavor  to  avoid  all  prejudices,  as  much  as  pos- 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  229 

sible;  and  fairly,  in  humility  and  with  prayer,  to  give  differ- 
ent authors  a  careful  examination:  not  too  many  at  a  time, 
or  as  if  it  were  necessary  to  make  up  your  mind  on  every 
subject;  but  deliberately,  and  with  much  exercise  of  your 
own  thoughts  on  the  various  views  set  before  you.'- 

I  would  here  just  add,  that,  even  if  any  persons  should 
be  of  opinion  that  the  text  quoted  (1  John  iv,  19,)  speaks 
more  directly  of  the  love  of  gratitude,  it  would  only  prove, 
what  I  apprehend  no  one  wishes  to  deny,  that  favors  re- 
ceived, form  one  ground  of  that  complex  affection  which  is 
stvled  the  love  of  God;  not  that  this  is  the  only  ground,  or 
that  no  stress  is  to  be  laid  on  the  love  of  moral  esteem  for 
the  divine  character. — One  great  reason  for  insisting  on  the 
principles  of  this  letter  is,  that  even  a  wicked  man,  taking 
for  granted,  on  whatever  grounds,  (as  it  is  to  be  feared 
many  have  done,)  that  he  enjoys  the  tavor  of  God,  and  is  an 
heir  of  all  the  blessings  of  v/hich  he  reads  in  the  scrip- 
tures, may,  on  that  erroneous  assumption,  feel  a  flow  of 
gratitude,  which  he  may  mistake  for  the  love  of  God,  and 
thus  be  confirmed  in  his  delusion,  while  his  heart  is  really 
at  enmity  with  God;  and  that  this  error  is  best  guarded 
against^  by  urging  the  necessity  of  cordial  reconciUation  to 
the  divine  holiness,  and  delight  in  the  perfections  of  the  di- 
vine character. 

The  following  letter  to  a  lady  on  a  popular  volume  of 
hymns,  arose  out  of  his  visits  to  Margate  It  points  out  some 
important  distinctions,  often  not  duly  adverted  to. 

"Mr.  Hart,  in  his  hymns,  often  represents  faith  as  con- 
sisting in  a  belief  that  Christ  died  for  me^  in  particular; 
which,  being  no  proposition  of  scripture,  can  only  be  directly 
known  by  a  new  revelation.  This  opens  a  door  to  delusion. 
Many  are  conlident,  whose  lives  prove  their  confidence  to 
be  presumption:  and  many  are  cast  down  for  want  of  this 
confidence,  concluding  themselves  unbelievers  because  they 
have  it  not,  whose  faith  is  notwithstanding  proved  to  be  liv- 
ing and  saving,  by  its  proper  fruits.  Faith  is  the  belief  of 
God's  testimony,  especially  concerning  his  Son,  and  eternal 
life  for  sinners,  in  him:  it  embraces  this  salvation,  and  gives 
up  other  confidences,  and  other  objects,  for  the  sake  of  it: 
and,  when  its  effects  on  the  judgment,  desires,  affections, 
&c.  prove  it  to  be  genuine,  the  spirit  of  adoption  enables  a 
man  to  conclude  according  to  scripture^  that  Christ  (Tied  for 
him  in  particular.     But  this  is  rather  the  maturity  of  faith 

and  hope  than  essential  to  the  nature  of  faith. —Again,  a 

20 


230        ^  LETTERS.  [€hap.  XII. 

person's  doubting  of  his  own  state  is  generally  condemned  by 
Mr.  H.,  as  unbelief;  whereas  it  is  often  a  genuine  exercise 
of  faith  in  God's  word,  under  existing  circumstances.  We 
believe,  on  God's  testimony,  that  such  and  such  characters 
have  only  a  dead  faith;  and  we  find  reason  to  doubt,  whether 
we  are  not  such  characters.  This  puts  us  on  self-examina- 
tion, prayer,  &c.:  and  thus  our  doubts,  which  were  very  sal- 
utary, are  removed. — The  apostle  stood  in  doubt  of  the 
Galatians:  and  surely  it  behoved  them  to  doubt  of  them- 
selves.— Indeed  every  caution  against  being  deceived,  in  the 
whole  scripture,  confutes  this  too  popular  sentiment;  which 
is  only  suited  to  bolster  up  the  presumptuous,  and  crush  the 
feeble  and  tempted. — To  doubt  the  truth  of  God's  word,  or 
the  power  and  willingness  of  Christ  to  save  all  that  truly 
come  to  him,  is  direct  unbelief:  but  to  doubt  whether  I  come 
aright,  and  am  a  true  believer,  when  many  things  in  my  ex- 
perience and  conduct  seem  inconsistent  with  the  life  of 
faith  and  grace,  is  the  grand  preservative  against  delusion, 
and  incitement,  to  watchfulness,  self-examination,  and  cir- 
cumspection. But  Mr.  H.  does  not  attend  to  such  distinc- 
tions.— The  same  is  frequently  the  case  in  respect  to  fear. 
Many  passages  indiscriminately  condemn  every  kind  of  tear; 
though  the  scripture  says.  Blessed  is  he  that  feareih  always; 
Be  not  high  minded  but  fear.  Yet  in  other  places  he  speaks 
a  different  language. 

''Upon  the  whole,  Mr.  H.  was  a  man  of  a  warm  heart, 
and  of -a  lively  imagination;  and  sometimes  he  displayed  a 
poetical  genius:  but,  for  want  of  more  accuracy  of  judgment, 
he  has  left  passages,  in  some  of  his  hymns,  capable  of  a 
dangerous  construction." 

Observations,  similar  to  those  of  this  letter,  my  father 
used  pointedly  to  apply  to  an  abuse,  current  in  some  quar- 
ters, of  that  fine  passage  in  the  conclusion  of  the  book  of 
Habakkuk,  in  which  the  prophet  declares  his  confidence 
and  joy  in  God,  under  the  failure  of  all  external  sources  of 
consolation.  The  abuse  consists  in  what  is  called  spiritual- 
izing the  language  of  the  inspired  writer,  and  thus  employ- 
ing it  to  cherish  a  confidence  of  God's  favor,  when  faith, 
and  hope,  and  love,  and  every  other  grace  may  have  been 
long  out  of  exercise,  and  perhaps  no  sufficient  evidence  ex- 
ists that  we  ever  were  true  Christians  at  all. 

In  a  letter  dated  December  29,  1796,  my  father  regrets 
his  want  of  skill  in  Hebrew,  but  adds,  "It  is  too  late  for  roe 
to  go  to  school  in  this  sense."     Yet  much  after  this  time  I  ^ 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  231 

did  attain  a  degree  of  critical  proficiency  in  the  language; 
so  tliat  his  remarks  were  acknowledged  to  be  among  the  most 
valuable  that  were  received  on  the  late  Hebrew  version  of 
the  New  Testament,  while  it  was  in  progress.  He  subjoins 
some  observations  on  learning. — "Of  all  kinds  of  learning, 
none  seems  more  important,  than  an  accurate  knowledge  of 
the  two  languages,  which  the  Lord  has  honored  by  giving 
in  them  his  sacred  oracles.  As  to  mathematics,  they  doubt- 
less have  their  use;  but  a  moderate  proficiency  in  them  is 
enough  for  your  purpose. ...  I  must  own,  I  feel  in  my  best 
moments,  that  I  had  rather  be  the  author  of  the  Discourse 
on  Repentance,  than  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  Principia:  for  the 
salvation  of  one  soul  gives  joy  in  heaven,  but  we  read  not 
that  angels  notice  philosophical  discoveries.  Yet  learning 
of  every  kind,  if  attended  with  humility,  and  subordinated 
to  the  one  thing  needful,  may  be  very  usefully  employed 
in  the  service  of  the  truth:  and  some  of  Christ's  servants 
should  be  learned  men;  for  others  can  seldom  have  access 
to  the  learned,  or  to  those  who  would  be  thought  such;  and 
there  are  many  important  services,  which  learned  men  alone 
can  perform." 

The  following  remarks  on  habits,  and  on  the  regulation 
of  employments,  appear  to  proceed  on  the  stjundest  princi- 
ples, and  may  be  both  instructive  and  encouraging  to  the 
conscientious  mind. 

"March  15,  1797.  Having  been  worked  too  hard  at 
some  times,  I  am  at  others  very  much  disposed  to  indulge  a 
kind  of  sloth,  and  only  to  amuse  myself  with  reading.  This 
is,  1  know,  in  some  measure  necessary;  and  yet  it  is  so  apt 
to  grow  upon  me,  till  it  become  a  kind  of  habit,  and  require 
much  exertion  to  break  through,  when  I  am  better  able, 
that  lam  very  much  afraid  of  admitting  it  on  any  occasion. 
It  is  also  inimical  to  my  comfort;  for  I  always  feel  most  dis- 
posed to  dejection,  and  to  view  every  thing  in  the  most  dis- 
couraging light,  when  I  am  least  active:  so  that  on  all  ac- 
counts, when  [  am  able,  I  must  be  employed  about  some- 
thing, which  is,  at  least,  an  attempt  to  exercise  my  minis- 
try, and  employ  my  talents  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
good  of  others;  whether  what  1  do  answer  any  purpose  or 
not.  The  state  of  public  affairs,  and  the  great  stagnation 
that  has  taken  place  in  respect  to  the  demand  for  books, 
has  made  me  rather  less  earnest  in  preparing  any  thing  for 
publication:  but  I  believe  I  must  go  on  writing,  whether  I 
publish  or  not;  or  1  shall  be  like  those  who  give  over  hm\^ 


^St  LETTERS.  [Chap.  Xll. 

uess,  and  then  grow  low-spirited,  or  get  into  mischief,  for 
want  of  regular  employment.  Few  men  know  how  to  use 
leisure  either  comfortably  or  profitably;  and  a  regular  plan 
and  succession  of  employments,  provided  it  be  so  formed  as 
to  imply  seeking  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness^ 
according  to  the  duty  of  our  station,  seems  to  be  very  im- 
portant. To  them  who  have  their  time  at  their  own  dis- 
posal, some  care  and  consideration,  with  wisdom  and  grace, 
are  requisite  to  form  a  plan:  but,  when  formed,  it  should 
in  ordinary  cases  be  adhered  to,  so  as  to  grow  into  a  good 
hahit:  for,  though  what  we  do  habitually  sometimes  seems 
mechanical,  and  not  clearly  evidential  of  the  right  principle; 
yet  the  verj^  circumstance  of  its  being  rendered  habitual  by 
sell-denying  exertion,  so  that  we  cannot  deviate  from  it 
without  uneasiness,  and  consciousness  of  criminality,  unless 
we  have  a  good  reason  for  doing  so,  is  a  presumption  that 
it  sprang  from  a  right  principle  originally.  For  my  part,  I 
often  feel  as  if  the  constant  succession  of  duties  in  the  fami- 
ly, asylum,  hospital,  chapel,  study,  and  in  visiting  the  sick, 
were  as  mechanical  as  if  I  were  making  tables  and  chairs: 
yet  it  is  so  contrary  to  the  plan  upon  which  I  once  was,  that 
i  think  the  forming  of  the  habit  was  the  effect  of  a  new  dis- 
position and  purpose  of  heart:  and  I  now  feel  guilty  and  un- 
easy, it^  without  urgent  cause,  I  deviate  from  it;  which 
sometimes  keeps  me  going,  when  I  feel  considerable  reluc- 
tance: and  yet  those  times  often  eventually  prove  most  sat- 
isfactory.— We  should,  however,  be  careful  not  to  be  too 
much  attached  to  our  own  plans:  we  should  not  offer  to 
prescribe  them  to  others,  whom  they  may  not  suit:  or  to 
censure  those  who  have  other  plans,  provided  they  be  not 
unscriptural:  and,  when  an  occasion  of  serving  others  oc- 
curs, which  deranges  our  plan,  we  should  readily  make  it 
give  way;  as  a  man  would  sit  up  all  night  to  help  to  extin- 
guish the  flames,  if  his  neighbor's  house  were  on  fire. 
When  we  appear  reluctant  to  this,  it  arises  from  a  too  great 
fondness  for  our  own  humor.  In  this  I  have  often  detected 
myself:  I  could  not  bear  my  plan  to  be  deranged,  though  it 
was  plain  the  honor  of  God,  and  the  benefit  of  souls,  re- 
quired it." 

In  a  letter  of  the  same  month  I  find  a  slight  notice  of  his 
last  visit  to  his  old  and  revered  friend  the  Reverend  Henry 
Venn,  who  died  soon  after  at  Clapham.  Of  this  visit  he 
ever  retained  a  delightful  remembrance.  He  found  Mr.  V, 
at  first  in  rather  a  torpid  and  vacunt  state:  but  at  length, 


1792—1801-]  LETTERS.  233 

on  the  mention  of  the  prospect  before  him,  and  the  manj 
spiritual  children  who  had  preceded  him,  and  would  wel- 
come him  to  glory,  all  his  ancient  fire  rekindled,  and  he 
talked  for  some  time  in  the  most  animated  and  heavenly 
strain.  Indeed  it  was  remarked  that  this  aged  saint,  when 
he  seemed  nearly  expiring,  was  repeatedly  revived  again 
by  the  thoughts  of  the  happiness  which  awaited  him,  and 
continued  somewhat  longer  on  earth  through  the  inspiring 
prospect  of  the  glory  prepared  for  him  in  heaven. 

His  elder  sister,  Mrs.  Webster,  had,  in  1794,  lost  one  of 
her  two  daughters,  and  was  now  threatened  with  the  loss  of 
the  other.  This  drew  from  my  father  the  following  ex- 
pressions of  pious  and  affectionate  sympathy. 

"April  20,  1797.  It  is  a  duty  to  use  such  means  as  we 
can  to  preserfe  life,  and  restore  health:  yet  we  all  knovr 
that  many  other  things  must  be  consulted.  Physicians  often 
recommend  such  means,  as  their  patients  are  unable  to  try: 
and,  when  this  is  the  case,  there  is  no  ground  of  anxiety  or 
regret;  for  the  ability,  the  means,  and  the  blessing,  are  all 
in  the  hand  of  God. — It  is  often  a  comfort  to  me,  both  in 
respect  of  myself  and  those  dear  to  me,  that  the  Savior 
who  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions^  and  bruised  for  our 
iniquities^  has  the  keys  of  death  and  of  the  eternal  world.  If 
we  can  but  say,  Lord^  he  whom  thou  lovest  is  sick^  we  may 
confidently  commit  the  event  to  him.  It  may  be  very  dif- 
ferent for  a  time,  (as  in  the  case  of  Lazarus,)  from  what  we 
should  choose,  but,  in  the  final  issue,  it  will  demonstrate 
his  wisdom,  as  well  as  his  faithfulness  and  love.  The  num- 
ber of  our  trials,  and  pains,  and  days;  the  circumstances  of 
our  life  and  death;  are  all  with  him.  He  can  be  touched 
with  the  feeling  of  our  sorrows,  and  consults  our  feelings  as 
Air  as  wisdom  will  permit.  But  faithful  are  the  wounds  of  a 
friend:  and  he  prefers  our  durable  and  eternal  good,  even 
to  our  present  comfort;  though  he  will  not  leave  his  disci- 
ples comfortless^  or  orphans^  or  bereaved  persons.  But  what 
he  doeth  we  know  not  now;  hereafter  we  shall  know.  We  do 
not  even  know  the  effect  of  trials  on  our  own  souls:  we 
cannot  say  what  we  should  have  been  without  them:  we 
cannot  estimate  or  measure  our  own  progress  or  growth, 
The  Lord's  plan  is  very  complex:  but  the  truth  is  sure, 
All  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God.,  whom 
he  hath  called  according  to  his  purpose.  .  .  .  I  have  no  doubt 
of  the  event  to  you,  that  it  will  be  mercy: 
*20 


234  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

'Y\\e  cloud  you  so  much  dread 
Is  big  witli  mercy,  and  will  break 
fn  blessings  on  your  head. 

But  nature  must  feel,  and  I  do  most  heartily  pray  God  to 
spare  your  feehngs,  and  to  preserve  your  child,  to  be  both 
a  comfort  to  you,  and  a  blessing  to  others.  But  I  am  not 
coniident  that  he  will  see  good  to  answer  these  prayers, 
because  they  are,  perhaps,  the  language  of  ignorance  or 
mistake.  All  I  see,  hear,  or  feel,  convinces  me,  that  noth^ 
ing  is  worth  living  for,  but  to  prepare  for  death  and  heaven, 
and  to  do  some  good  in  the  world,  if  therefore  the  Lord 
has  given  her  grace  to  choose  the  good  part,  to  flee  for 
refuge  to  Christ,  and  to  yield  herself  to  him  in  penitent 
faith  and  love,  if  He  has  any  work  for  her  to  do  in  the' 
world,  she  will  certainly  live  to  do  it;  and,  if  not,  depart- 
ing hence  to  be  with  Christ  will  be  a  loss  to  others,  but  her 
inchest  gain." 

The  young  woman  died  about  three  months  afterwards, 
as  her  sister  had  done  betbre  her,  a  most  happy  death. 

At  this  period  Mr.  Wilberforce's  "Practical  View'*  made 
its  appearance;  and  I  trust  I  may,  without  offence  in  any 
quarter,  allow  the  public  to  observe  the  impression  which 
that  work  made  upon  my  father''s  mind. 

"April  26,  1797.  It  is  a  most  noble  and  manly  stand  for 
the  Gospel;  full  of  good  sense,  and  most  useful  observations 
on  subjects  quite  out  of  our  line;  and  in  all  respects  titled 
for  usefulness:  and  coming  from  such  a  man,  it  will  probably 
be  read  by  many  thousands,  who  can  by  no  means  be  brought 
to  attend  either  to  our  preaching  or  writings.  Taken  in 
all  its  probable  effects,  1  do  sincerely  think  such  a  bold 
stand  for  vital  Christianity  has  not  been  made  in  my  mem- 
ory. He  has  come  out  beyond  ail  my  expectations.  He 
testifies  of  the  noble,  and  amiable,and  honorable,  that  their 
works  are  evil;  and  he  proves  his  testimony  beyond  all  denial. 
He  gives  exactly  the  practical  view  of  the  tendency  of  evan- 
gelical principles,  for  which  I  contend;  only  he  seems 
afraid  of  Calvinism,  and  is  not  very  systematical:  perhaps 
it  is  so  much  the  better. — It  seems,  likewise,  a  book  suited 
to  reprove  and  correct  some  timid  friends,  who  are  at  least 
half  afraid  of  the  Gospel,  being  far  more  prudent  than  the 
apostles  were;  or  we  should  never  have  been  able  to  spell 
out  Christian  truths  from  their  writings.  But  it  is  especially 
calculated  to  shew  those  their  mistake,  who  preach  evan- 
gelical doctrines,  without  a  due  exhibition  of  their  practical 


1702—1801.]  LETTERS.  235 

effects.  I  pray  God  to  do  much  good  by  it!  and  I  cannot  but 
hope  that  I  shall  get  much  good  from  it,  both  as  a  preacher, 
and  a  Christian." 

Indeed,  of  all  the  high  and  deserved  compHments 
which  have  been  paid  to  this  work,  scarcely  any,  it  has  ap- 
peared to  me,  have  more  strongly  spoken  its  worth,  than 
the  manner  in  which  my  father  always  regarded  it.  la 
general,  I  was  tempted  to  think  that  he  formed  rather  too 
low  an  estimate  of  the  books  which  came  before  him,  es- 
pecially those  connected  with  his  own  profession:  which 
arose,  no  doubt,  from  the  depth  of  thought  which  he  had  him- 
self bestowed  upon  the  subjects  of  them.  But  the  sentiments 
of  this  work  appeared  to  him  so  just,  and  many  parts  of  it  as 
he  expresses  it,  "so  much  out  of  our"  accustomed  "line," 
that  he  recurred  to  it  again  and  again,  and  never  seemed 
weary  of  the  perusal. 

From  a  letter  full  of  wise,  animating,  and  exciting  coun- 
sel, but  too  personal  to  be  inserted  more  at  large,  I  give  the 
following  extracts. 

"November  28,  1797.  Upon  the  whole,  if  1  have  many 
difficulties  and  discouragements  in  one  way,  they  are  coun- 
terbalanced in  another;  and  I  have  every  reason  to  think, 
that  the  Lord  will  make  my  poor  labors  from  the  press, 
considerably,  and,  I  hope,  durably  uselul.  My  answer  to 
Paine  has  been  reprinted,  and,  1  am  told,  is  approved  in 
America.  The  4^  orce  of  Truth'  has  also  been  reprinted 
there.  .  .  I  mention  this  to  show  you,  that  the  Lord  will  make 
use  of  honest,  though  mean  endeavors  to  promote  his  cause; 
and  that  he  mixes  encouragements  with  humiliating  dispen- 
sations, in  his  dealings  with  those  who  trust  in  him The 

Lord  puts  his  treasure  into  earthen  vessels;  such  as  men  despise, 
and  such  as  think  meanly  of  themselves.  He  makes  httle 
use  of  those  attainments  and  accomplishments  which  men 
80  much  admire,  and  which  many  think  absolutely  essen- 
tia! to  the  ministry Consider  well  the  worth  of  immor- 
tal souls;  the  miUions,  all  over  the  world,  who  are  perish- 
ing/or lack  of  knowledge;  the  awful  delusions  which  prevail, 
even  in  this  land;  the  few,  comparatively,  of  even  honest 
and  faithful  preachers;  how  the  Lord  is  taking  many  of 
them  from  us;  what  a  determined  combination  is  every 
where  made  against  Christianity;  and  what  an  honor  it  will 
at  last  be  found,  to  have  been  decidedly  on  the  Lord's  part 
— an  instrument  of  defeating  the  gates  of  hell— of  sowing 
seed  for  that  harvest  which  he  will  shortly  gather— as  well 


Sae  LETTERS.  FChap.  XII. 


as  of  rescuing",  though  it  be  but  a  few,  souls  from  eternal 
destruction,  to  be  your  crown  of  rejoicing  in  the  presence  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christy  at  his  coming.  With  all  my  discour- 
agements and  sinful  despondency,  in  my  better  moments  I 
can  think  of  no  work  worth  doing,  compared  with  this. 
Had  I  a  thousand  lives,  I  would  willingly  spend  them  in  it: 
and  had  I  as  many  sons,  I  should  gladly  devote  them  to  it. — 
I  have  little  doubt  that  you  will  see  your  way  clear  before 
the  time  comes:  and  though  a  country  situatioH  may  prob- 
ably be  most  eligible,  yet,  I  trust  you  will  say,  Here  am  /, 
Lord,  send  me  where  thou  wilt.  (Isaiah  vi,  8(.)  .  .  . 

'^Fraying  frequently  helps  to  pray  fervently.  .  . 

"Watch  SLgRinst  heartlessness  as  against  the  grossest  crime; 
for  it  is  very  dishonorable  to  the  mercy  and  grace  of  the 
Gospel,  and  to  his  name,  who  commands  his  servants  to 
rejoice  in  hope;  and  a  very  great  hindrance  to  active  en- 
deavors   to   glorify  him Strive   against   reserve 

Beware  lest  pride  and  fastidiousness,  and  the  fear  of 
not  acquitting  yourself  creditably,  influence  you  to  be  silent, 
where  you  should  speak:  for  pride  may  work  tftis  way,  as 
well  as  in  forwardness  and  sell-sufficiency.  N'ature  always 
needs  counteracting  and  correcting:  and  whatever  endow- 
ment is,  or  may  be  necessary  to  the  service  intended  for  us, 
we  should  long  before  be  asking  it  of  the  Lord  in  daily  prayer, 
and  using  means  to  obtain  it,  and  to  overcome  impediments: 
and,  though  we  may  for  a  long  time  seem  unsuccessful,  we 
shall  find,  at  length,  that  it  has  not  been  in  vain. 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  of  Mr. 's  death,  and  of : 

but  Mr.  Milner-s  death  especially  affects  me,  and  bids  me 
redouble  my  diligence,  while  the  day  lasts." 

With  Mr.  Milner  of  Hull,  my  father  had  no  personal  ac- 
quaintance. That  he  had  the  highest  esteem  for  his  char- 
acter, I  need  not  say.  His  death  took  place  the  same 
month  in  which  this  letter  was  written,  in  the  fifty-»fourth 
year  of  his  age. 

A  passage  in  the  latter  part  of  this  letter  reminds  me  of 
a  beautiful  sentence  of  Plato,  Archbishop  of  Moscow,  who 
enumerates  among  the  "external  signs,"  by  which  our  "in- 
ternal devotion"  should  be  indicated,  "joy  of  countenance, 
produced  by  a  glad  heart,  sensible  of  the  infinite  goodness  of 
God." 

A  letter,  dated  February  14,  1798,  gives  an  account  of 
a  long  conversation  with  the  late  Dean  of  Carlisle,  (Dr.  Mil- 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  237 

ner,)  in  which  "a  variety  of  questions,  both  concerning  doc- 
trines, experience,  and  the  state  of  religion  in  town,"  were 
discussed.  My  father  says,  "He  allowed  nearly  all  my  sen- 
timents as  true  and  important;  but  I  could  hardly  persuade 
him  that  any  men,  who  were  not  totally  and  evidently  bad 
characters  would  hold  such  notions,  and  make  such  abuses 
of  the  gospel,  as  I  too  well  know  many  do." — 1  insert  this 
sentence,  because  I  am  aware,  that  persons  at  a  distance 
from  the  scene  in  which  my  father  lived,  and  strangers  to 
many  things  which  came  under  his  observation,  have  been 
ready  to  judge  him  unduly  apprehensive  of  antinomiaQ 
abuses  of  the  gospel. 

The  remainder  of  the  letter  shews  the  "godly  jealousy" 
with  which  he  looked  upon  any  degree  of  success,  however 
slight,  obtained  in  the  university;  and  is  one  among  a  thousand 
proofs,  how  far  he  was  from  viewing  things  with  the  eyes 
of  "a  man  of  this  world."  "I  rejoice  with  trembling;  and 
would  suggest  a  cautious,  jealous  watchfulness.  1  know 
how  pron^  the  heart  is  to  be  puifed  up  with  any  kind  of 
distinction,  or  supposed  advance,  or  comparative  knowledge. 
I  feel  it  to  this  hour,  after  all  my  mortifications;  and  I  can- 
not do  without  them.  I  am  aware  how  bewitching  those 
studies  must  appear  to  a  youthful  mind  in  your  situation — 
among  so  many  who  judge  by  unscriptural  rules — which 
procure  applause,  distinction,  or  the  prospect  of  secular  ad- 
vantage; and  what  a  strong  temptation  there  is,  to  devote 
more  time  to  them,  than  to  others  of  far  more  importance, 
which  are  of  small  repute  in  the  world,  but  derive  an  un- 
speakable value  from  their  enabling  the  possessor,  though 
poor^  to  make  many  rich^  and  having  nothings  yet  to  possess  all 
things.  I  own  I  have  a  higher  aim  for  you,  than  any  emi- 
nence in  an  university,  or  any  acquirements  of  human  learn- 
ing could  bestow:  and  I  hope  you  have,  and  will  have  the 
same  for  yourself' 

I  may  be  permitted  to  say,  that  I  derive  much  pleasure, 
in  transcribing  such  extracts,  from  the  hope,  that  they  may 
be  the  means  oi'communicating  a  portion  of  the  writer's  spirit 
to  young  men  preparing  for  the  sacred  office;  and  espe- 
cially to  such  as  may  be  more  in  danger  of  academical  dis- 
tinction, than  the  person  was,  to  whom  they  were  originally 
addressed. 

A  proposal  made  to  place  a  young  woman,  distantly  con- 
nected with  the  family,  under  his  care,  because  of  the  im- 
prudent marriage  of  her  sister,  gave  occasion  to  his  making 
some  remarks  on  education,  and  on  the  conduct  of  parents. 


238  LETTERS.  [Chap,  XII. 

"July  14,  1798.  It  appears  to  me,  that  in  such  cases  (as 
that  of  the  parent,)  it  behoves  us  to  examine  ourselves,  in 
order  to  discover  whether  the  Lord  is  not  contending  with 
us  for  some  neglect  of  our  proper  duty,  while  others  are 
left  to  violate  their  duty  to  us:  for,  without  this  be  discover- 
ed and  confessed  before  the  Lord  in  humble  repentance, 
we  cannot  reasonably  expect  to  enjoy  comfort  under  afflic- 
tion, to  have  it  sanctified,  or  to  find  a  happy  event  to  it. 
The  principles  and  plan  of  modern  education  are  such,  and 
I  have  so  long  made  my  observations  on  the  effect  of  them, 
that  I  cannot  but  suspect  the  mother  has,  in  some  degree, 
been  guilty  of  Eli's  fault;  which  brings  sore  calamities  on 
families,  and  especially  on  the  families  of  religious  people. 
Self-will  is  natural  to  us;  arid,  if  indulged,  it  gathers  strength 
with  our  years,  and  at  length  will  brook  no  control.  Chil- 
dren, like  young  colts,  must  be  broken  in;  and  the  sooner" 
the  better.  The  child,  that  has  early  been  constrained  to 
give  up  its  will  to  that  of  a  parent,  will,  without  severity, 
be  trained  to  a  habit  of  submission^  which  will  not  easily  be 
broken  through  when  he  is  grown  up;  even  though  he 
want  religion  effectually  to  produce  submission  to  God. 
But  the  reverse  is  modern  education,  and  especially  among 
religious  people." 

"1  own,"  he  saj's,  "I  am  grievously  afraid  of  young  peo- 
ple who  have  been  indulged  when  children."  And  subse- 
quently, "At  boarding  schools  they  are,  in  general,  much 
more  of  fine  ladies  than  I  should  wish  any  body  about  me 
to  be.  On  this  account  I  have  resolutely  refused  many 
friendly,  and  apparently  advantageous  offers  from  the  teach- 
ers of  schools,  respecting  my  daughter,  who  has  never  left 
home." 

The  young  person  in  question,  being  soon  after  left  an  or- 
phan, was  received  into  his  family,  and  died  there  about 
half  a  year  afterwards;  being,  1  trust,  to  be  added  to  the 
number  of  those,  who  have  received  the  most  important 
benefit  under  his  roof. 

His  nephew  having,  at  this  period,  proposed  to  enter 
into  the  church,  he  points  out  what  he  conceives  to  be  the 
best  plan  to  be  adopted,  and  says,  "If  you  can  make  up  your 
mind  to  it,  I  consider  such  a  delayed  course  as  no  objection; 
for  I  think  the  nearer  thirty  the  better,  before  a  man  be 
engaged  in  such  a  work  as  that  of  the  ministry."  A  year 
afterwards,  proposing  to  receive  him  under  his  owa  tuition, 
he  writes  to  him: — 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  239 

"December  1 9, 1 799.  1  must  soon  decrease  and  be  gone. 
I  have  borne  a  faithful,  but  rude  and  feeble,  testimony:  my 
desire  is  to  be  instrumental  in  bringing  forward  some  young 
men,  who  may  carry  on  the  same  work  to  better  advan- 
tage when  I  am  removed:  for  a  tendency  to  antinomianism 
is  the  bane  of  evangelical  preaching  in  this  day;  both  by 
lowering  Christianity  among  those  within,  deceiving  profes- 
sors, and  disgracing  the  common  cause.  ...  I  have  a  most 
deep  and  heartfelt  conviction  of  the  truth  and  impor- 
tance of  those  peculiarities^  which  have  hitherto  made  me 
unpopular;  and  I  wish  to  communicate  and  perpetuate  them, 
by  young  persons  who  may  have  advantages  that  I  have 
not." 

The  last  letter  which  I  shall  produce,  belonging  to  this 
period,  will  be  esteemed  one  of  no  common  interest.  It 
will  itself  explain  the  circumstances  under  which  it  was 
written. 

''Chapel  Street,  November  22,  1801.  Dear  John,  1  un- 
derstand that  you  have  been  informed  by  Mr.  Pratt's  letters 
to  Mr.  Dikes,  that  I  am  recovering  from  my  late  sickness; 
and  this  may  keep  you  and  dear  Frances  from  anxiety  on 
my  account:  yet  I  thought  a  few  lines  from  me  would  be 
welcome  on  the  occasion,  and  have  therefore  allotted  a  part 
of  this  evening  (Sunday,)  to  the  purpose. 

"During  almost  sixteen  years'  continuance  in  London, 
though  often  greatly  indisposed,  I  have  never  once  before 
been  prevented  officiating  on  the  Sunday:  but  1  have  now 
done  nothing  since  Wednesday  sennight  in  the  evening.  I 
have  not  been  able  even  to  pray  in  the  family  till  last  night, 
and  then  with  great  difficulty.  In  the  former  part  of  life,  1 
had  many  more  violent  and  long  continued  lievers:  but  I 
have  not  been  so  ill,  since  I  had  a  nervous  fever  in  Shrop- 
shire, in  1783;  and,  as  far  as  I  can  recollect,  1  never  had  so 
violent  an  attack  of  the  asthma  before.  For  many  hours  of 
two  successive  nights,  it  was  all  but  absolute  suffocation; 
and  the  sense  and  dread  of  that  were  continually  present  to 
my  mind.  Yet,  bless  the  Lord,  I  was  not  left  either  to 
murmur  or  despond.  I  had  very  serious  apprehensions  of 
immediate  death;  though  I  said  nothing  to  those  around  me: 
and  all  my  cares,  plans,  hopes,  (as  to  this  world,)  and  every 
thing,  except  my  wife  and  children,  seemed  quite  out  of 
sight.  1  had  not  any  sensible  comfort;  yet  I  thought  of 
dying,  without  emotion:  though  the  idea  of  dying  by  suffo- 
cation seemed  formidable.     I  felt  the  grand  concern  to  be 


240  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIL 

safe;  and  was  willing  to  leave  all  below,  to  have  done  with 
suffering,  sin,  and  temptation.  I  did  not  feel  much  of  what 
the  apostle  mentions,  of  desiring  to  be  with  Christ;  and  I 
was  convinced,  for  that  very  reason,  that  my  Christianity 
was  of  a  small  growth:  yet  I  trusted  that  it  was  genuine. 
I  tried  to  commit  all  I  loved,  and  all  I  had  labored  to  effect, 
into  the  Lord's  hands:  and  I  thought  of  recovering,  as  a 
sailor,  just  about  to  enter  harbor,  would  of  being  ordered 
out  to  sea  again.  Yet  I  was  willing,  if  the  Lord  saw  good. 
— This  was  about  the  state  of  my  mind.  I  could  confus- 
edly recollect  very  many  things  to  be  humbled  for,  and 
ashamed  of;  but  nothing  that  impeached  the  sincerity  of 
my  professed  faith  in  Christ,  and  love  to  him:  and,  though 
conscious  of  very  many  faults  and  imperfections  in  my  min- 
istry, I  was  also  conscious,  that  I  had  honestly  sought  to 
glorify  God,  and  save  souls,  in  preference  to  all  worldly  in- 
terests. My  hope  was  that  of  a  sinner,  throughout  saved 
by  grace:  yet  I  was  satisfied,  that  the  aim  of  my  heart, 
and  the  tenor  of  my  conduct,  since  I  professed  the  gospel, 
evidenced  that  1  had  built  on  the  sole  foundation  by  a  living 
faith. — When  I  die,  it  is  not  to  be  expected,  that  I  should  be 
able  to  declare  my  views  and  experiences;  and  therefore  I 
commit  these  things  to  paper,  as  what  passed  in  my  mind, 
when  I  had  serious  apprehensions  of  dying. 

*4t  pleased  God,  however,  at  length  to  bless  the  means, 
and  repeated  emetics,  blisters,  &c.  abated  the  paroxysm: 
yet  the  lungs  were  left  in  such  a  state,  and  I  had  so  strong 
a  fever,  that,  for  almost  ten  days,  I  tasted  neither  animal 
food,  nor  fermented  liquor,  except  a  spoonful  of  wine  two 
or  three  times,  by  way  of  trial,  which  alwaj's  disagreed 
with  me.  So  that,  altogether,  1  have  been  reduced  very 
low:  but,  thank  God,  the  fever  yielded  to  medicine;  and  1 
have  now  nothing  remaining  of  my  disorder,  but  the  lan- 
guor, and  a  sort  of  irritable  state  of  the  lungs,  which  chiefly 
troubles  me  by  preventing  me  from  sleeping.  In  other  re- 
spects I  am  amazingly  recovered,  and  relish  my  food  better 
than  I  have  done  for  months  past.  I  am,  however,  advanc- 
ing in  years;  and  this  attack  will  probably  have  some  effect 
upon  my  plans,  so  far  as  to  make  me  backward  to  under- 
take all  that  labor,  which  I  had  some  thoughts  of  But 
wherever,  or  how  long,  or  in  whatever  way,  I  may  be  em- 
ployed, 1  never  felt  so  deeply  convinced  in  my  life,  that 
being  employed^  as  a  minister,  is  the  only  thing  worth  livmg 
for.     The  vanity  of  all  worldly  possessions,  distinctions, 


1792— ICOl.]  LETTERS.  ^41 

connexions,  and  enjoyments,  never  so  forcibly  impressed 
my  mind,  as  on  this  occasion.  The  folly  of  shrinking 
from  that  hardship  or  suifering  which  the  frown  or  scorn  of 
men  can  inflict  on  us,  for  faithfulness,  appeared  extreme; 
when  I  felt  how  easily  God  could  inflict  far  sharper  suffer- 
ings, if  he  saw  good.  The  reality  and  importance  of 
eternal  things  shone  on  the  scenes  around  me;  so  that  the 
crowds  of  noble  and  affluent  sinners,  foUowmg  the  steps  of 
the  rich  man  in  the  gospel,  appeared  the  most  miserable  of 
wretches.  Transient  pain  taught  me  emphatically  the  value 
of  deliverance  from  eternal  misery;  and  endeared  the  love 
of  the  deliverer,  who  voluntarily  endured  such  pain  and 
agony  for  us  vile  sinners.  The  evil  of  sin,  the  happiness 
of  the  poorest  true  Christian,  and  the  little  consequence  of 
the  smoothness  or  ruggedness  of  the  path,  provided  we 
come  to  heaven  at  last:  these  things,  and  others  confiecied 
with  them,  have  not,  for  many  years  at  least,  so  impressed 
my  mind. — The  Friday  evening  before  I  was  taken  ill,  I 
preached  on  the  text.  Follow  holiness^  without  which  no  man 
shall  see  the  Lord.  But  I  did  not  properly  dwell  on  the  Lord's 
method  of  making  us  partakers  of  his  holiness:  so  he  has 
since  preached  to  me  on  the  subject.  And,  as  I  now  think 
little  of  the  distress  and  pain  attending  the  remedies  used 
for  my  body,  (the  pain  is  all  past,)  because  I  hope  I  shall 
have  the  subsequent  benefit  of  better  health;  how  little 
should  I  think  of  the  sharpest  sufferings  I  can  here  go 
through,  if  the  health  of  my  soul  be  forwarded,  and,  at 
length,  perfected,  by  means  of  them:  or  rather  how  ought 
I  to  bless  ami  thank  God  for  them  all. — Pray  for  me,  that  I 
may  not  lose  these  impressions;  but,  if  spared,  may  hve, 
and  preach,  and  pray,  and  write,  in  a  manner,  somewhat 
less  unsuitable  to  the  vastly  important  services  1  am  engage 
ed  in:  for  who  can  be  siifficientfor  these  things/* — I  rejoiced, 
and  blessed  God,  when  1  recollected  that  he  had  put  you 
into  this  high  office  of  the  ministry:  O  may  he  preserve 
you  from  the  snares,  and  smiles,  and  frowns  of  the  world; 
from  the  fascinations  and  delusions,  from  the  lukewarm- 
ness,  and  evangelical  formality,  and  attachment  to  secular 
interests,  which  are  sanctioned  too  much  in  the  church! 
May  you  be  a  wiser,  holier,  more  faithful,  and  more  useful 
minister,  than  ever  I  have  been! — O  keep  the  concluding 
scene  in  view  every  step  of  the  way;  and  judge  of  every 
thing  by  it.  The  evils  I  have  protested  against  in  health 
appeared  to  me  far,  far  more  pernicious,  as  I  lay  gasping^- 


242  LETTERS.  [Chap.  Xlt. 

for  breath,  than  before:  and  I  seem  to  rejoice  in  the  hope  of 
entering  further  protests  against  them. — But  I  must  stop  my 
pen,  or  I  shall  hurt  myself.  You  will  excuse  the  overflow- 
ings of  my  heart  at  this  time:  it  never  was  more  full  of 

love  for  you My  love  and  blessing  to  my  daughter.     God 

bless  and  prosper  you,  in  the  best  sense! — Your  truly  affec- 
tionate father,  Thomas  Scott." 

An  addition  to  the  letter  by  another  hand,  made  the  next 
morning,  observes,  "He  was  yesterday  (the  first  time  he 
went  downstairs,)  enabled  to  go  to  chapel,  and  that  without 
any  injury.     He  is  now  at  work,  as  usual,  in  the  study!" 

On  this  very  striking  and  affecting  letter  I  shall  venture 
to  offer  a  few  remarks. 

1.  It  can  hardly  be  necessary  to  call  the  reader's  attention 
to  the  deep  and  vivid  impressions,  made  on  the  writer's 
mind,  of  "the  reality  and  importance  of  eternal  things;"  of 
"the  vanity  of  all  worldly  possessions,  distinctions,  connex- 
ions, and  enjoyments;"  of  "the  happiness  of  the  poorest 
true  Christian;"  of  the  extreme  misery  of  "the  crowds  of 
noble  and  affluent  sinners,  following  the  steps  of  the  rich 
man  in  the  gospel;"  of  the  "little  consequence  of  the  smooth- 
ness or  ruggednessof  the  path,  provided  we  come  to  heaven 
at  last;"  of  the  welcome  with  which  we  should  receive  "the 
sharpest  sufferings,  we  can  go  through  here,  if  the  health 
of  our  souls  may  be  forwarded,  and,  at  length,  perfected  by 
jneans  of  them." 

2.  The  views  which  he  takes  of  the  work  of  the  minis- 
try, and  of  "the  folly  of  shrinking  from  that  hardship  or 
suffering,  which  the  frown  or  scorn  of  men  can  inflict  on  ua 
for  faithfulness;"  the  prayer,  "O  may  he  preserve  you  (as 
a  minister,  especially,)  from  the  snares,  and  smiles,  and 
frowns  of  the  world,  from  the  fascinations  and  delusions, 
from  the  lukewarmness,  and  evangelical  formality,  and 
attachment  to  secular  interests,  which  are  sanctioned  too 
much  in  the  church!"  cannot  fail  to  strike  every  mind. — 
The  light,  also,  in  which,  apparently  on  a  dying  bed,  he 
now  saw  the  specialities^  if  I  may  so  call  them,  of  his  doc- 
trine and  ministry,  more  particularly  as  opposed  to  a  loose 
and  worldly  profession  of  the  gospel,  and  the  abuse  of 
evangelical  truths,  will  not  pass  unnoticed. 

3.  But  particularly  we  have  here  presented,  under  these 
interesting  circumstances,  and  with  immediate  reference  to 
his  own  case,  a  distinct,  though  concise,  view  of  some  df  his 
seutiments,  which  have  been  often  misapprehended  and  mis- 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  243 

represented.  "I  could  confusedly  recollect  very  many  things 
to  be  hunibled  for,  and  ashamed  of:  but  nothing  that  impeach' 
ed  the  sincerity  of  rny  professed  faith  in  Christ  and  love  to  him. 
My  hope  was  that  of  a  sinner,  throughout  saved  by  grace: 
yet  I  was  satisfied,  that  the  aim  of  my  heart,  and  the  tenor 
of  my  conduct,  since  I  professed  the  gospel,  evidenced  that 
1  had  built  on  the  sole,  foundation  by  a  living  faith.'^'' — Is  there 
any  thing  in  this  which  is  justly  chargeable  with  self-right- 
eousness, or  which  even  approaches  to  that  error?  The  ut- 
most that  it  amounts  to  is  that  rejoicing  in  the  testimony  of  his 
conscience,  that  in  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity,  not  with 
fleshly  wisdom,  but  by  the  grace  of  God,  he  had  had  his 
conversation  in  the  world,"  wliich  the  same  apostle  does 
not  scruple  to  express,  who  teaches  us  to  '-'-rejoice  in  Christ 
Jesus"  only,  and  exclaims,  ''God  forbid  that  I  should  glory, 
save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." — Christ  is  "the 
SOLE  foundation:"  "by  faith"  alone  we  "build"  upon  him: 
but  the  fruits  of  faith  are  to  be  adduced,  both  now,  and  at 
the  day  of  judgment,  as  "evidence"  that  our  professed  faith 
is  "Uving,"  and  not  dead.  This  is  the  whole  doctrine  of 
evidences:  yet  many  excellent  persons  cannot  distinguish 
between  adducing  the  fruits  of  faith  as  a  foundation  on  which 
to  rest  for  acceptance  with  God,  and  adducing  them  merely 
as  a  proof  that  we  are  builded  upon  Christ  alone  by  a  living 
feith:  and  thus  they  unintentionally  give  countenance  to 
those  who  decry  all  appeal  to  evidences,  because,  it  is  to 
be  feared,  they  have  no  satisfactory  evidences  to  appeal  to. 
in  support  of  their  own  pretensions  to  the  Christian  state 
and  character. 

We  ought  also,  under  the  present  head,  to  remark  the 
perfect  sobriety  and  soundness  of  the  writer's  method  of 
proceeding,  as  to  the  question  of  his  own  state  and  pros- 
pects, even  in  the  condition  of  extreme  exhaustion  and  suf- 
fering which  he  describes.  He  is  able  "to  give  to  every 
one  that  asketh  of  him  a  reason^''''  which  cannot  be  contra- 
vened, "of  the  hope  that  is  in  him."  Is  there,  it  may  be 
confidently  demanded,  any  thing  fanatical,  fanciful,  or  in  any 
way  contrary  to  "a  sound  mind,"  in  what  we  are  reviewing 
of  the  writer's  proceedings  upon  a  supposed  dying  bed? 

4.  But,  lastly,  it  may  perhaps  be  little  satisfactory  to 
some  persons,  that  there  was  no  more  of  joy  and  "sensible 
comfort,"  in  the  writer's  "views  and  experiences,  when 
he  had  serious  apprehensions  of  dying:"  and  I  the  rather 
advert  to  this  subject,  because  the  case  was  pretty  much  the 


244  LETTERS.  [gHAP.  Xllv 

same,  as  he  ratheF  seems  to  anticipate  that  it  might  be, 
when  death  actually  approached.  But  let  us  observe  what 
he  says  "about  the  state  of  his  mind"  in  this  respect. 

"For  many  hours  of  two  successive  nights,  it  was  all  but 
absolute  suffocation,  and  the  sense  and  dread  of  that  was 
continually  present  to  my  mind:  yet,  bless  the  Lord,  I  was 
not  left  either  to  murmur  or  despond.     I  had  very  serious 

apprehensions   of   immediate  death I    had    not  any 

sensible  comfort.     Yet  1  thought  of  dying  without  emotion. 
......  I  felt  the  grand  concern  to  be  safe;  and  was  wilhng 

^o  leave  all  below,  to  have  done   with  sufferings  sin,  and 

temptation I  tried  to  commit  all  I  loved,  end  ail  I  had 

labored  to  effect,  into  the  Lord's  hands:  and  I  thought  of 
recovering,  as  a  sailor,  just  about  to  enter  harbor,  would  of 
being  ordered  out  to  sea  again.  Yet,  I  was  willing  if  the 
Lord  saw  good."  But  he  adds,  "I  did  not  feel  much  of  what 
the  Apostle  mentions  of  desiring  to  be  with  Christ;  and  I 
was  convinced  for  that  very  reason,  that  my  Christianity 
was  of  a  small  growth,  though  1  trusted  it  was  genuine:" — 
a  sentence  which  produces  an  impression  like  that  felt  by 
the  late  distinguished  Dean  of  Carlisle,  when,  comparing 
the  exalted  Christian  state  of  his  dying  brother  with  the 
humility  of  his  language,  he  exclaims,  "So  this  is  the  man, 
who,  when  he  is  asked  directly  about  his  prospects  in 
eternity,  can  give  no  other  answer  than,  /  eanU  say  rnuchP'* — 
Surely  in  such  patience,  such  submission,  such  trust,  even 
in  the  absence  of  "sensible  comfort;"  in  such  willingness,  as 
the  Lord  should  see  good,  either  to  "enter  the  harbor"  of 
death,  or  to  be  "ordered  out  to  sea  again,"  on  the  stormy 
voyage  of  life: — surely  there  is  in  all  this  much  of  the  high- 
est attainments  of  Christianity.  "1  can't  say  much,"  replied 
the  dying  Milner  to  the  questions   which  were  put  to  him: 

"I  rely  on  the  promises  for  strength  in  the  time  of  need , 

There  was  a  time  when  I  should  have  been  very  unhappy  to 
have  had  so  little  of^  sensible  comfort;  hnt  I  have  seen  reason 
tp  believe  that  one  of  the  most  acceptable  exercises  of  true 
Christian  faith  consists  in  patiently  waiting  God's  time,  and 
in  relying  confidently  on  the  written  word.  For  many  years, 
I  have  been  endeavoring  to  Uve  from  day  to  day  as  a  pen- 
sioner on  God's  bounty.  1  learn  to  trust  him,  and  he  sends 
the  manna  without  fail." 

From  the  period  of  the  illness  here  described,  my  fathei^ 
gave  up  his  Sunday  morning  lecture  at  Lothbury. 


lb 


1801—1813.]     SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.        215 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

FROM   HIS   ACCEPTING  THE  LIVING   AT  ASTON   SANDFORD;    TO    THE 
FINAL    DISPOSAL    OF    HIS    COMMENTARY. 

"I  SHALL  now,"  my  father  proceeds,  "draw  this  account  to 
a  conclusion,  as  most  of  the  subsequent  events  of  my  life 
are  nearly  as  well  known  to  my  family  as  to  myself. 

"It  would  be  of  little  use  or  interest  to  detail  my  trials 
and  difficulties  at  the  Lock.  At  length,  however,  the  time 
arrived,  when  I  was  satisfied  in  my  conscience  that  it  was 
my  duty  to  recede.  I  always  questioned  whether  1  acted 
properly  in  coming  thither,  which  often  added  to  my  de- 
pression amidst  my  other  distresses:  but  I  never  thought, 
till  this  time,  that  I  was  allowed  to  quit  my  post.  Indeed  I 
had  no  opening,  and  used  very  often  most  seriously  and  dole- 
fully to  think,  that,  if  compelled  to  leave  it,  1  could  not 
form  the  idea  of  any  station,  that  I  was  hkely  to  attain, 
for  which  I  was  at  all  suited,  and  in  which  I  could  conscien- 
tiously engage.  Of  a  living  I  had  no  hope:  the  post  of  a 
curate  could,  in  few  situations,  be  compatible  with  my  views 
and  my  unpopularity:  a  chapel  would  not  clear  expences: 
and  into  an  irregular  engagement  I  was  not  disposed  to 
enter. 

"But  the  affairs  at  the  Lock  seemed  at  last  to  draw  to  a 
crisis. — When  the  Rev.  Martin  Madan,  who  had  alone  borne 
the  title  of  chaplain,  died,  Mr.  De  Coetlogon  and  myself 
were  appointed  chaplains,  instead  of  evening  and  morning 
preachers;  but  without  any  other  alteration  than  that  of  the 
name.  But  various  things  concurred  in  convincing  me,  that 
I  ought  not  to  continue  in  this  joint-chaplainship  with  one, 
whom  I  could  not  approve:  and  at  length  I  avowed  my  de- 
termination to  that  purport.  This  produced  various  effects 
and  plans:  and  it  was  for  some  time  doubtful,  whether  my 
removal,  or  my  appointment  as  sole  chaplain,  would  be  the 
consequence.  In  this  unsettled  state  of  affairs,  the  living  of 
Aston  Sandford,  became  vacant  by  the  death  of  the  rector, 
Mr.  Brodbelt;  and,  as  it  was  in  the  gift  of  John  Barber,  Esq. 
by  virtue  of  his  marriage  with  Miss  Gines,  who  had  been 
under  my  care  at  Olney,  I  applied  for  it.  1  never  before 
had  asked  preferment  of  any  one,  and  never  in  my  life  had 
any  offered  to  me:  but  on  this  occasion  I  stated  my  circum- 
stances and  views  to  Mrs.  Barber,  and  received  an  answer 
*2l 


246  ACCEPTING  ASTON  TO  THE     [Chap.  XIII. 

peculiarly  gratifying  to  me.  After  some  deliberation,  I  con- 
sidered the  business  as  settled:  but  a  demur  subsequently 
arose,  under  the  idea  that  Mrs.  B  's  mother  had  made  a  will, 
and  bequeathed  Aston  to  some  other  person.  No  will  had 
before  been  noticed,  but  one  was  now  found,  which  was  not 
legally  authenticated,  but  yet  clearly  shewed  that  she  de- 
sired the  living  to  be  given  to  the  Rev.  Richard  Johnson, 
who  had  been  for  many  years  chaplain  to  the  colony  at 
New  South  Wales,  and  who  had  just  returned  to  England, 
unprovided  for.  On  this  I  at  once  renounced  all  my  pre- 
tensions, in  his  favor;  though  not,  I  own,  without  feelings  of 
regret.  For  two  months  I  seldom  thought  about  it,  except 
when  distressed  with  some  vexation.  But  one  morning  Mr. 
Johnson  called  on  me,  and,  when  I  congratulated  him  on  his 
presentation  to  Aston,  he,  to  my  surprise,  replied,  that,  as 
he  had  some  ground  of  claim  on  government  for  a  provis- 
ion, he  had  been  advised  not  to  accept  the  living,  and  had 
come  to  say,  that  he  wished  me  to  have  it. 

"The  rest  was  soon  settled  in  due  order,  and  I  was  insti- 
tuted at  Buckden,  July  22,  1801.  I  had  been  led  to  think, 
that  the  income  was  little  more  than  100/.  a  year,  without 
a  hoiLse;  and  that  it  could  not  easily  be  improved.  But,  on 
taking  possession,  I  found  that  my  predecessor  had  advanced 
the  rent  to  180/.  free  of  all  parish  taxes;  and  that  the  ten- 
ant was  willing  to  confirm  this  agreement  to  me.  This- 
business,  therefore,  was  already  arranged  to  my  hands, 
though  Mr.  Brodbelt  had  not  lived  to  received  any  benefit 
from  the  arrangement  himself*  But  there  was  no  habitable 
parsonage:  and  the  circumstances  were  such,  that  I  could 
not  avoid,  either  building,  or  leave  my  family  exposed  to 
serious  difficulties  about  dilapidations,  when  I  should  be  re- 
moved. This  left  me,  for  sometime  after  institution,  in 
hesitation  whether  I  should  retain  the  living  or  not. 

"In  the  mean  time  it  was  determined  at  the  Lock,  that 
there  should  be  only  one  chaplain;  and,  to  preserve  the 
appearance  of  impartiality,  both  chaplains  were  discharged, 
but  with  the  allowance  to  become  candidates  for  the  vacant 
office.  Such  an  arriingement  was  by  no  means  pleasing  to 
me;  and  I  determined  to  accede  to  the  dismission,  and  go  to 
my  living.     But  this  was  not  what  had  been  purposed  by 

•  When  the  sum  expendetl  by  my  father  in  the  erection  of  a  parson- 
age-house at  Aston  is  taken  into  the  account,  it  will  be  found  that  the 
iiving  could  never  be  reckoned  \*orth  a  elear  hundred  pounds  a  year  to 
•him. 


1801—1813.]    SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.         247 

those  who  formed,  or  concurred  in  the  plan;  and  it  would 
have  enabled  the  party,  which  they  meant  to  exclude,  com- 
pletely to  triumph.  I  was,  therefore,  earnestly  intreated  ta 
become  a  candidate,  and  at  length  consented  to  do  so;  and, 
no  other  candidate  appearing,  was  chosen  sole  chaplain, 
March  25,  1802,  though  not  without  many  eflorts  and  strat- 
agems to  prevent  it.  At  this  period  I  resigned  my  lecture- 
ship in  Bread-street. — I  had  now  j£l70  a  year  from  the 
chapel  and  the  Asylum;  i)ut  without  a  house.  I  had  also 
something  coming  in  from  my  hving. 

"I  now,  however,  became  more  doubtful  than  before, 
whether  1  should  give  up  my  living,  or  determine  to  go  and 
reside  upon  it.  I  knew  that  the  bishop  would  not  long  con- 
nive at  non-residence;  and  that  it  would  be  impracticable  to 
hold  the  Lock,  if  I  resided  any  considerable  part  of  my  time 
in. the  country.  In  the  event,  I  came  to  the  resolution  of 
rearing  to  my  living,  induced  l3y  the  tbllowing  reasons: 

'^i.  I  thought  that,  if  a  chaplain  could  be  found,  wholly 
uncori«ected  with  the  conflicting  parties,  which  had  so  long 
struggled  for  victory  at  the  Lock,  and  who  inherited  none  of 
those  pi^judices  which,  I  knew,  must  attach  to  me,  peace 
and  amity  might  succeed;  and  the  important  object  of  the 
united  charities,  together  with  the  interests  of  true  religion 
in  the  chapel,  might  be  pursued  with  a  far  better  prospect 
of  success. 

"2.  My  engagements  at  the  Hospital  and  Asylum,  and  the 
services  in  the  chapel,  with  those  which  arose  from  the  ap- 
plication.s  made  to  me  b}'  governors,  added  to  my  other 
urgent  employments,  were  by  far  too  much  for  me;  allowing 
me  no  time  for  exercise  or  recreation:  so  that  1  had  no 
prospect  of  proceeding '^ith  the  publication  of  an  improved 
edition  of  the  Family  Bible,  on  the  plan  on  which  I  had  be- 
gun it,  without  such  close  application,  as  I  found,  by  expe- 
rience, was  injurious  to  my  health  and  spirits. 

"My  determination,  however,  was  not  made  absolute  at 
once;  and  I  purposed  to  wait,  till  I  could  resign  my  situation 
into  the  hands  of  an  approved  successor,  before  I  publicly 
avowed  my  intention.  In  the  mean  time,  I  set  about  build- 
ing a  parsonage  at  Aston. 

''My  resources  for  this  purpose  were,  indeed,  smalh  but 
I  did  not  suppose  the  expence  would  be  so  heavy  as  it  prov- 
ed; and  I  expected  considerably  more  emolument  from  my 
pubHcation,  than,  for  reasons  already  assigned,  it  produced. 
I  also  borrowed  a  small  sum  on  the  living;  or  rather  §ecured 


248         ACCEPTING  ASTON  TO  THE       [Chap.  XIH, 

a  payment  from  it  to  my  family,  ^according  to  the  provis- 
ions of  the  Act  for  that  purpose,)  in  case  of  my  decease 
within  a  given  term: — for  I  advanced  the  money  myself,  as 
1  suppose  is  generally  done  in  such  cases. 

"My  resources  w^ere  further  aided,  just  at  this  time,  by  a 
very  unexpected  legacy,  the  circumstances  attending  which 
may  deserve  to  be  explained;  as  the  whole  formed  a  re- 
markable illustration  of  the  text.  He  that  hath  pity  on  the 
poor  lendeth  unto  the  Lord;  and  that  which  he  hath  given  will 
he  pay  him  again. 

"borne  years  before,  I  had  become  acquainted,  as  a  min- 
ister, with  a  female  servant,  of  whose  character  I  entertained 
a  high  opinion,  and  who  was  reduced  by  disease,  justly  deemed 
incurable,  to  the  painful  necessity  of  going  into  a  London 
workhouse,  (where  the  society  must  be  peculiarly  distress- 
ing to  pious  persons,)  unless  some  charitable  provision 
could,  in  another  way,  be  made  for  her.  As  I  was  entrusted, 
by  aftluent  and  liberal  friends,  with  money  for  such  pur- 
poses, I  proposed  to  support  her  for  a  time,  till  further 
medical  means  could  be  tried.  Her  case,  however,  was 
soon  given  up,  as  beyond  the  reach  of  medicine;  and  it  was 
thought  she  could  not  long  survive.  Her  situation  became 
known  to  some  families  in  which  she  had  lived;  and  with 
the  prospect  of  aid  from  them,  I  received  her  into  my 
house,  and  undertook  her  support.  From  one  family,  in 
particular,  in  which  she  was  greatly  respected,  1  received 
at  least  £10  a  year  on  her  account.  This,  with  some  other 
helps,  enabled  me  to  maintain  her,  without  any  improper 
expence  to  myself  Thus  things  proceeded,  till  I  was 
preparing  to  leave  London,  by  building  a  house  on  my  liv- 
ing; when  one  of  the  family  just  mentioned,  to  whom  I  was 
known  chiefly  by  means  of  this  poor  woman,  died,  and  left 
me  a  legacy  of  £20(J.  I  still  received,  for  several  years, 
the  usual  aid  for  her  support,  and  at  the  decease  of  another 
of  the  family,  a  further  sum  of  £40.  Thus  I  have  had  the 
privilege,  and  at  little  expence,  for  at  least  seventeen  or 
eighteen  years,  of  preserving  from  very  great  distress,  a 
poor  suft'ering  diseased  person,  whom,  I  doubt  not,  the  Sa- 
vior and  Judge  of  the  world  will  own  at  the  great  day  of 
final  retribution,  as  intimately  related  to  himself,  and  the 
heir  of  his  kingdom.  (Matt,  xxv,  34 — 40.  Mark  iii,  34,  35.) 
— 1  would  further  observe,  that  this  is  the  person,  who 
was  described  in  the  "Christian  Observer,'-  for  July  1803^ 
p.  416,  as  having  expended  all  her  savings,  made  in  service. 


ISOl— 1813.]    SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.         249 

upon  her  aged  and  distressed  parents,  in  the  confidence  that 
God  would  raise  her  up  friends,  in  case  the  time  should^ 
come  when  she  should  not  be  able  to  maintain  herself. — 
Such  instances  of  the  taithfulness  of  God  to  those  who  trust 
his  providence,  while  they  obey  his  commands,  seem  pe- 
culiarly worthy  to  be  had  in  remembrance." 

As  this  person  is  still  living,  and  under  the  care  of  the 
family,  (though  she  took  as  she  fully  apprehended,  her 
last  farewell  of  me,  when  I  first  went  to  college,  in  the 
year  1795!)  little  more  can,  with  propriety,  be  here  said 
concerning  her.  I  may  remark,  however,  that  such  are 
her  fervent  and  affectionate  piety,  her  cheerfulness,  and 
the  consistency  of  her  temper  and  conduct,  and  (we  are 
»ure,  )  the  earnestness  of  her  prayers  for  all  about  her,  that 
though  she  is  unable  to  walk  up  and  down  stairs,  or  to  get 
to  church  except  by  being  carried;  ydt  her  presence  is  es- 
teemed a  privilege,  by  servants  as  well  as  by  master  and 
mistress,  to  those  who  have  received  her  under  their  roof* 

"This  legacy,"  my  father  proceeds,  ^'enabled  me  to  go 
on  with  my  building:  but,  before  it  was  finished,  the  cir- 
cumstances of  having  tbund,  as  I  thought,  a  proper  succes- 
sor, induced  me  immediately  to  resign  the  chaplainship  of  the 
Lock;  and  after  a  sharp  struggle,  (the  only  contested  elec- 
tion in  which  1  was  ever  engaged,  and  in  which  I  only  con- 
tended by  writing  letters  to  diiforent  governors,)  he  was 
chosen,  Feb.  3,  1803. 

"As  soon  as  it  became  known,  that  I  was  about  to  leave 
the  Lock,  a  number  of  individuals,  governors,  and  others 
without  my  interposition,  and  without  my  knowing,  for  some 
time,  that  it  was  in  hand,  raised  me  a  voluntary  subscription 
of  about  £300. 

"I  thought  myself,  indeed,  entitled,  not  as  a  donation, 
but  as  a  remuneration,  to  something  from  the  hospital. 
The  whole  stipend  which  I  receiyed,  at  first  j£80,  then,  as 
joint  chaplain,  £l00,  and  then  £ibO  as  sole  chaplain,  was 
charged  to  the  chapel  account;  and  certainly  was  httle 
enough  for  my  services  in  the  chapel.  So  that,  for  above 
seventeen  years  that  1  continued  at  the  Lock,  I  had  at- 
tended the  patients  in  the  wards,  as  chaplain  to  the  hospital^ 

*  Since  the  above  paragraph  was  written,  the  excellent  person  i*effrred 
to  (named  Klizalieth  Moulder,)  has  departed  this  life:  but,  as  n  brief  me- 
nioir  of  her  has  appeared  in  the  "Christian  tauaidian,"  and  is  now  pub- 
lished, with  additions,  as  a»eparate  tract,  I  forbear  adding  nwre  concern* 
ing  her  in  this  place,     pf 


260        ACCEPTING  ASTON  TO  THE     [Chap.  XIII. 

without  any  thing  brought  to  account  on  that  score,  and,  I 
must  say,  wholly  without  compensation  from  man. — 1  also 
preached  a  weekly  lecture  for  the  same  term  of  years, 
without  any  remuneration,  except  a  few  presents.  For 
this,  however,  I  did  not  consider  the  charity  as  indebted  to 
me:  but  I  did  for  the  other.  But  as  others  did  not  see  that 
I  had  any  claim  on  the  equity  of  the  governors,  1  expressed 
a  determination  not  to  receive  any  thing  from  the  charity  as 
a  gratuity;  because  I  have  always  thought,  that  corporate 
bodies  are  under  a  responsibility  for  the  use  of  the  funds 
committed  to  their  management,  which  admits  only  of  the 
payment  of  just  debts,  and  equitable  compensations  for  ser- 
vices received,  and  not  of  the  liberahty  of  gratuitous  dona- 
tions. 

''During  the  whole  time  that  J  was  at  the  Lock,  and  in- 
deed for  some  years  before,  the  receipts  from  the  chapel 
were  small,  compared  with  what  they  had  formerly  been; 
and,  in  this  way,  I  was  but  unsuccessful  in  my  attempts  to 
serve  the  charity.  But,  if  the  vulgar  proverb,  'A  penny 
saved  is  a  penny  gained,'  be  founded  in  truth,  I  must  take 
more  credit  to  myself,  in  respect  to  the  finances,  than  has 
been  allowed  me.  Perhaps  it  would  be  found,  if  the  case 
were  fully  investigated,  that  as  many  hundreds  were  saved 
annually,  in  the  management  of  the  institution,  by  those 
friends  whose  plans  I  supported,  and  aided  by  measures 
more  appropriately  my  own,  as  fell  short  in  the  income 
from  the  chapel,  at  its  lowest  depression.  This  at  least  is 
certain,  though  but  little  known,  that  in  the  dearest  times, 
when  bread  (the  main  article  of  provision  in  the  Hospital,) 
was  four  times  the  price,  and  other  articles  of  consumption 
double  the  price  they  had  been,  more  patients  were  cured, 
and  the  charity  had  more  resources,  than  in  the  'golden 
days,'  when  the  income  of  the  chapel  was  three  times  as 
great. 

''When  I  was  appointed  sole  chaplain,  doleful  forebodings 
were  expressed  of  the  ruinous  consequences  which  must 
follow:  but,  by  a  concurrence  of  circumstances,  the  single 
year,  that  I  continued  in  that  situation,  was  peculiarly  pro- 
ductive both  to  the  Hospital  and  the  Asylum;  and  I  left  the 
unttel  charities  much  richer  at  the  end  of  the  term,  than 
they  were  at  its  commencement. 

"I  would  only  add  on  this  subject,  that  I  can  rejoice  in 
the  testimony  of  my  conscience  before  God,  that  I  uniform- 
iy  did  my  best,  often  amidst  many  censures,  and  against  much 


1801—1813.]     SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.       231 

opposition,  to  promote  the  secularinterestsof  the  charities, 
as  far  as  was  consistent  with  the  great  object  of  both  them 
and  the  chapel — bringing  sinners  to  repentance  and  salva- 
tion; and  that  I  never  suffered  my  own  gratification,  ease, 
interest,  or  credit,  to  warp  me  from  that  line  of  conduct, 
which  I  deemed  incumbent  on  me:  and  that,  at  least,  I  was 
enabled  to  defeat  verj  many  attempts,  the  success  of  which,, 
it  was  afterwards  allowed,  would  have  been  highly  detri- 
mental. 

''■Having  made  every  requisite  arrangement,  I  removed 
to  Aston  in  the  spring  of  1803,and  have  here  lived  nearly  nine 
years  in  quiet  and  privacy;  with  the  opportunity  of  pursu- 
ing my  studies  to  far  greater  advantage  than  in  town,  and 
of  reserving  to  myself  time  for  recreation  and  exercise. 
The  village  is  one  of  the  smallest  in  the  kingdom:  two 
farm  housCvS,  a  few  laborers'  cottages,  and  the  newly  erect- 
ed parsonage,  containing  together  about  seventy  inhabi- 
tants, young  and  old,  form  the  whole  of  it;  without  ale- 
house, shop,  or  mechanic  of  any  kind.  Still,  however, 
there  is  some  opportunity  of  usefulness:  the  small  church 
is  generally  well  attended  on  the  Lord's  day:  and  exemp* 
tion,  to  a  considerable  degree,  from  parochial  duties  leaves 
me  at  leisure  for  other  services 

"Since  1  came  to  this  place,  I  have  completed  the  second 
edition  of  the  Family  Bible,  with  the  addition  of  marginal 
references;  have  published  a  third  edition;  and  am  now 
preparing  a  fourth.  I  have  collected  and  printed  all  my 
other  previous  works,  (with  the  exception  of  Bunyan's  Pil- 
grim with  notes,)  in  five  volumes,  octavo;  have  published 
several  sermons;  and,  during  the  last  year  (1811,)  have 
written  Remarks  on  the  'Refutation  of  Calvinism.' 

"Here  I  close,  for  the  present  at  least,  this  narrative.  I 
might  add  many  things  concerning  my  family, — in  respect 
of  which  God  has  specially  favored  me;  so  that  many  have 
vrished  me  to  say,  what  methods  I  took,  which  were  crown- 
ed with  such  success  To  this  I  must  answer,  that  fe^flr 
things  are  looked  back  on  by  me  with  less  satisfaction,  than 
my  own  conduct  in  respect  to  my  children,  except  in  one 
particular,  which  appears  to  have  been  the  grand  secret, — 
namely,  that  I  have  always  sought  for  them,  as  well  as  for 
myself,  in  the  first  place,  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his 
righteousness  y 

My  father's  sentiments  and  practice  concerning  education 
must  receive  distinct  notice  hereafter;  when  both  parts  of 


g5S  ACCEPTING  ASTON  TO  THE     [Chap.  XIII. 

the  above  remarkable  sentence,  with  which  he  conchides 
his  narrative,  will  demand  our  attention.  At  present,  there- 
fore, I  content  myself  with  applying  to  it  the  sentiment  of  an 
acute  observer, — 4hat  a  man  always  perceives  his  deficien- 
cies most  in  those  things  in  which  he  most  excels.' 

Here  then  we  take  leave  of  the  document  which  has  thus 
far  been  our  guide.  My  father  never  made  any  subsequent 
addition  to  it:  and,  for  the  remainder  of  his  history,  re- 
course must  be  had  to  what  recollection  may  furnish,  or  the 
letters  which  passed  between  the  various  branches  of  the 
family  may  supply.  Though  his  narrative  was  written  in 
1812,  he  has,  in  fact,  given  the  story  of  his  lite  only  to  the 
period  of  his  removal  to  Aston,  in  1805,  except  in  what  re- 
lates to  his  Commentary^  the  account  of  which  has,  in  a  for- 
mer Cf  apter,  partly  from  his  own  manuscript,  and  partly 
from  other  sources,  been  carried  down  to  the  decision  of 
the  Court  of  Chancery,  in  1813.  In  the  remainder  of  the 
present  chapter,  we  shall  detail  such  particulars  as  can  be 
collected,  and  seem  worthy  of  being  recorded,  to  the  same 
date,  or  somewhat  later. 

In  doing  this,  we  may,  in  the  first  place,  advert  to  certain 
visits  which  he  paid  during  the  period  in  question. 

Of  these,  two  were  made  to  Hull,  in  the  summers  of  1806 
and  1811.  In  the  course  of  the  former  he  passed  on  to 
York,  Leeds,  and  Huddersfield,  where,  as  well  as  at  Hull, 
he  met  with  that  respectful  and  cordial  reception  which  his 
works  had  prepared  for  him,  though  he  had  hitherto  been 
personally  a  stranger.  On  this  occasion  he  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  three  eminent  persons,  all  since  deceased;  the 
venerable  William  Hey,  Esq.  and  the  Rev.  Miles  Atkinson, 
of  Leeds,  and  the  Rev.  William  Richardson,  of  York  The 
last-named  penetrating  observer  of  mankind,  was  forcibly 
struck  with  his  character,  which  he  had  always  highly  es- 
teemed at  a  distance,  and  now  still  more  admired  on  a  nearer 
view.  He  afterwards  made  some  observations  to  me  on 
the  subject,  which  led  me,  at  a  later  period,  to  express  a 
wish  that  he  would  write  me  a  letter  upon  it;  but  he  said  it 
was  too  late  for  him  to  make  the  attempt.  I  remember  two 
points  which  he  noticed.  One  was  my  father's  constant  de- 
votion to  his  great  object:  in  whatever  company  he  was,  or 
whatever  subject  was  introduced,  he  naturally  and  easily 
made  it  subservient,  in  the  end,  to  the  great  religious  design 
for  which  he  hved.  The  other  pomt  was,  that,  with  all 
his   talents  and  industry,  and  in   all  his  writings,  he  had 


1801—1813.]     SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.        253 

done  nothing  fot  displays  he  had  consecrated  all  his 
efforts  to  utility,  and  had  sacrificed  nothing  to  reputation, 
any  more  than  to  interest. — With  his  preaching,  Mr.  R. 
was  somewhat  surprised,  on  account  of  its  abounding  with 
familiar  illustration,  so  much  more  than  he  would  have  ex- 
pected from  his  writings.  It  may  be  remarked,  however, 
that  Mr.  R.  heard  him  address  only  a  week-night  congrega- 
tion. One  of  the  illustrations  referred  to,  which  he  used  on 
that  occasion,  was  as  fdllows:  He  supposed  the  common  ob- 
jection made  against  insisting  so  much  upon  faith,  and  the 
inward  work  of  religion  on  the  heart;  and  that  the  objec- 
tor should  urge,  'good  works  are  every  thing:  if  we  can  but 
bring  men  to  live  well,  we  need  not  trouble  ourselves  so 
much  about  these  doubtful  and  mysterious  matters.'  'This,' 
said  he,  'is  as  if  a  man  should  come  into  a  garden,  and,  find- 
ing the  gardener  busy  in  grafting  his  trees,  should  tell  him 
that  fruit  was  every  thing,  and  that  all  this,  which  he  was 
engaged  in,  seemed  a  great  waste  of  labor.  The  gardener 
would  reply,  True,  fruit  is  every  thing;  but  then  I  know 
that  this  is  the  only  way  to  obtain  good  fruit.' 

Twice  also  he  visited  Bristol,  once  in  1809,  and  again  in 
1813.  In  the  former  of  these  journeys,  he  preached  at 
several  places  in  Wiltshire  and  Somersetshire:  but  of  Bath, 
he  remarks,  'I  was  almost  enchanted  with  the  beauties  of 
nature  and  art,  beyond  any  thing  I  ever  saw  before:  but  no 
opening  for  preaching  there.'  His  secQnd  journey  to  Bris- 
tol was,  by  request  of  the  Church  Missionary  Society,  to 
assist  at  the  formation  of  that  auxiliary  Association,  which 
has  since  yielded  such  effective  aid  to  the  parent  institution. 
His  reception  at  Bristol  was  very  gratifying;  and  the  regard 
borne  him  was  afterwards  testified  in  a  very  practical  man- 
ner; as,  in  its  proper  place,  we  shall  take  occasion  to  state. 

1b  1812,  having  gone  to  see  a  friend  at  Rogate,  in  Sus- 
sex, he  accepted  an  invitation  to  visit  Portsmouth;  where 
he  was  received  with  all  possible  kindness  by  Conimis- 
-sioner  and  Mrs.,  now  Sir  George  and  Lady  Grey. 

His  last  journey  to  any  considerable  distance  was  in  1813, 
to  Cambridge,  where  his  only  daughter  (who  had  been 
married  about  two  years  before,)  then  resided.  Here 
again  he  met  with  the  most  kind  and  cordial  reception  from 
various  members  of  the  University,  and  had  reason  to  be- 
Jieve  that  his  preaching,  expositions,  and  conversation, 
were  very  useful.  He  says  a  few  months  aftervvards, 
"Mj.  visit  there,  to  which  I  was  uncommonly  reluctant, 
22 


254        ACCEPTING  ASTON  TO  THE      [Chap.  Xirt. 

seems  to  have  been  greatly  blessed;"  and  he  adverts,  in 
particular,  to  the  late  Dr.  Jowett,  then  recently  deceased, 
ias  having  expressed  to  several  persons  how  much  he  had 
felt  himself  excited  by  what  passed.  To  have  contributed, 
in  any  degree,  to  arm,  as  it  were,  an  excellent  and  distin- 
guished character  for  his  last  conflict,  seems  to  have  afford- 
ed him  peculiar  satisfaction. 

In  this  journey  an  accident  occurred,  in  the  overturning 
of  the  coach,  which  proved  fatal  to  a  fellow  traveller. — 
From  about  this  period,  my  father  began  to  complain  of  a 
topical  affection  (threatening  cancer,)  which  henceforward 
confined  him  to  his  own  neighborhood,  and  for  some  time 
excited  alarming  and  gloomy  apprehensions;  which,  how- 
ever, were  happily  never  realized  to  the  extent  that  was 
dreaded. 

The  next  subject  to  which  we  will  advert  is  that  of  his 
publications  during  this  period. 

My  father  has  observed  in  the  preceding  narrative,  that 
he  had  published  several  sermons.  Soon  after  his  settle- 
ment at  Aston,  he  was  called  to  preach  a  funeral  sermon 
for  the  Rev.  Jeremiah  Newell,  vicar  of  Great  Missenden, 
which  he  published,  with  a  brief  memoir  annexed,  for  the 
benefit  of  Mr.  N.'s  family;  and  the  attention  thus  called  to 
their  circumstances  happily  proved  the  means  of  a  com^ 
fortable  provision  being  made  for  them. — In  May  1804,  he 
accepted  the  invitation  of  the  London  Missionary  Society,  to 
preach  one  of  their  anniversary  sermons,  which  he  did,  at 
St.  Savior's  Church,  Southwark,  prefixing  to  the  published 
sermon  the  motto,  "Is  there  not  a  cause?"  (1  Samuel  xvii, 
29,)  and  justifying  his  pleading  for  that  society,  as  well  as  for 
the  one  with  which^he  was  more  immediately  connected. — 
In  1808,  he  was  again  called  upon  to  bewail  and  commem-* 
orate  a  deceased  brother,  and  old  friend,  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Pentyc.ross,  A.  M.  "more  than  thirty-three  years  vicar 
of  St.  Mary's,  Wallingford."  The  sermon  is  entitled,  'jThe 
Duty  and  Advantage  of  remembering  deceased  Ministers." 
In  1 810,  the  death  of  a  very  pious  missionary  on  the  western 
coast  of  Africa,  the  Rev.  J.  C.  Barneth,  who  had  been  for 
a  considerable  time  under  his  instruction  at  Aston,  led  him 
to  preach  and  publish  a  sermon,  with  reference  to  that 
event,  on  "the  Spirit  and  Principles  of  a  genuine  Missiona- 
ry:" the  text,  Acts  xx,  24:  "None  of  these  things  move  me," 
&c.  In  June  1810,  he  preached,  at  the  church  of  St.  Law- 
rence Jewrj^,  London,  and  aiter wards  published,  a  Sermon 


1801—1813.]     SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.        25a 

in  behalf  of  the  Society  for  pFomoting  Christianity  among 
the  Jews:  the  text,  Zech.  viii,  ^3. — In  1811,  at  the  request 
of  the  Church  Missionary  Society,  he  dehvered  an  address 
to  two  of  their  missionaries  proceeding  to  Africa;  which 
was  published  in  the  appendix  to  the  Society's  Twelfth 
Report.  And  in  the  year  following,  he  preached,  at  St. 
Antholin's,  Watting  Street,  before  the  Governors  of  the 
London  Female  Penitentiary,  on  their  filth  anniversary. 
The  Sermon  was  published  at  their  request,  and  is  entitled, 
*'Joy  in  Heaven,"  being  on  the  text,  Luke  xv,  10. 

The  only  extensive  work  in  which  he  engaged,  during 
these  years,  in  addition  to  the  improvement  and  repeated 
publication  of  his  Commentary,  was  that  of  which  he  him- 
self has  already  made  mention,  "Remarks  on  the  Bishop 
of  Lincoln's  (now  Winchester's)  Refutation  of  Calvinism."" 
It  appeared  at  first  in  two  volumes  octavo:  but  was  subse- 
quently remodelled  and  published,  in  1817,  in  one  large  vol- 
ume.—  The  collection  of  his  Theological  Works,  in  five 
volumes  octavo,  was  published  in  numbers,  between  the 
years  1805  and  1808. 

It  has  been  already  noticed,  that  at  Aston  my  father  be- 
came the  tutor  of  the  persons  preparing  to  go  out  as  mis- 
sionaries under  the  Church  Missionary  Society.  This  ser- 
vice he  continued  about  the  space  of  seven  years,  from 
1807  to  1814.  1  find  its  commencement  thus  stated  in  the 
Society's  Eighth  Report:^"On  Mr.  Dawes's  removal  from 
Bledlow,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Scott,  rector  of  Aston  Sandford, 
near  to  Bledlow,  added  most  seasonably  to  the  many  proofs 
which  he  had  given  of  warm  interest  in  the  objects  of  the 
society,  by  acceding  to  the  wish  of  your  committee,  in 
taking  charge  of  the  missionaries.  As  they  could  not  be 
accommodated  in  Mr.  Scotfs  house,  they  are  placed  in  a 
pious  family  near  him,  and  enjoy  the  daily  advantage  of 
his  assiduous  and  affectionate  instruction.  Your  committee 
will  only  add  on  this  subject,  that  his  report  of  their  dili- 
gence, improvement,  and  piety,  is  of  the  most  satisfactory 
nature." — The  approaching  termination  of  this  engagement 
is  thus  adverted  to  in  the  Fourteenth  Report:  "The  health 
of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Scott,  the  venerable  teacher  of  the 
society's  missionary  students,  being  seriously  impaired,  the 
seminary  will  be  established,  as  soon  as  practicable,  in  the 
house  of  the  society." 

The  persons  who  came  under  his  instruction  in  this  ca- 
pacity were  several  of  them  Englishmen,  who  have  sincQ 


^56        ACCEPTING  ASTON  TO  THE      [Chap.  XIU, 

received  ordination;  but  the  majority,  Germans,  in  general 
Lutheran  clergymen.  All  of  them  went  forth  as  missiona- 
ries into  the  heathen  world,  and  most  of  them  are  now 
usefully  employed  in  that  character;  though  some  have 
died  in  the  service.  The  sentiments  of  grateful  and  affec- 
tionate veneration  which  they,  without  exception,  con- 
ceived for  their  instructor,  were  publicly  testified  by  them, 
cis  they  successively  took  leave  of  the  society  to  repair  to 
the  stations  assigned  them;  and  were  more  privately  ex- 
pressed in  the  correspondence,  which,  as  opportunity  of- 
fered, they  afterwards  kept  up  with  him 

The  progress  which  they  made  in  their  studies  was 
highly  creditable;  in  some  instances  remarkable.  I  re- 
member to  have  visited  Aston,  when  four  of  them,  who  had 
come  to  my  father  with  scarcely  any  knowledge  of  lan- 
guage beyond  their  mother  tongue,  were  reading  Cicero 
and  Horace,  the  Greek  tragedians,  the  Hebrew  prophets, 
and  the  Koran,  (Arabic,)  all  in  the  originals. 

The  subject  of  the  study  of  Arabic  may  deserve  a  little 
more  distinct  notice  as  it  respects  the  tutor,  not  less  than 
the  pupils.  In  June  1808,  I  received  a  letter  in  which  it 
was  observed:  "Mr.  Pratt  (the  Society's  secretary)  begs 
that  your  father  will  begin  to  teach  the  missionaries  Susoo 
and  Arabic,  of  neither  of  which  languages  has  he  any 
knowledge!  He  felt  very  uncomfortable  about  this  for  a 
day  or  two.  However,  he  has  now  begun  to  study  these 
new  languages  with  them."  And  in  November  following  he 
himself  wrote  to  me  as  follows: 

"With  all  my  other  engagements,  I  am  actually,  in  addi- 
tion to  what  I  before  taught  the  missionaries,  reading  Susoo 
and  Arabic  with  them.  The  former  we  have  mastered 
without  difficulty,  as  far  as  the  printed  books  go;  and  hope 
soon  to  begin  translating  some  chapters  into  the  language. 
But,  as  to  the  latter,  we  make  little  progress;  yet  so  far 
that  I  have  no  doubt  of  being  able  to  read  the  Koran  with 
them,  should  they  continue  here.  It  is  in  itself  a  most  dif- 
ficult language: but  my  knowledge  of  the  Hebrew  gives 

me  an  advantage."" 

To  say  nothing  of  the  Susoo,  an  imperfect  African  dialect, 
lately  reduced  to  writing,  those  who  are  acquainted  with 
the  feelings  of  men  in  general,  when  approaching  their 
grand  climacteric,  and  with  their  capacity  for  new  acquisi- 
tions, will  best  appreciate  the  energy  and  resolution  dis- 
played in  his  thus  calmly  encountering  and  mastering,  at 


1801—1813.]    SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.        257 

this  time  of  life,  with  all  his  other  engaa^ements  and  all  his 
infirmities,  the  formidable  difficulties  of  the  Arabic  lan- 
guage. The  Hebrew,  likewise,  which  was  his  auxihary 
on  this  occasion,  had  been  entirely  resumed,  and  almost 
learned,  since  his  tifty-third  year. 

But  the  most  edif^ying  subject  of  contemplation  will  be, 
the  spirit  and  views  with  which  he  carried  on  this  service 
of  instructing  the  missionaries  for  some  considerable  time 
after  he  had  found  reason  to  complain. — "My  chief  ditli- 
culty  is  about  my  missionary  pupils:  L  find  the  confinement 
to  my  chair,  &c.,  in  teaching  them,  almost  insupportable: 
yet  1  know  not  how  to  give  it  up,  till  some  other  plan  is 
formed." — What  his  views  were,  may  be  learned  from 
a  letter  addressed  to  a  clergyman,  who,  understanding  that 
he  was  about  to  relinquish  the  task,  had  thoughts  of  pro- 
posing to  succeed  him  in  it.     He  writes  to  him  as  follows. 

"November  18,  1813.  I  have  not  given  up  the  tuition  of 
the  missionaries,  though  1  have  urged  the  committee  to 
look  out  for  and  form  a  more  permanent  seminary.  Were 
I  able,  and  external  matters  convenient  for  their  reception,  I 
should  count  it  the  best  employment  of  my  latter  days.  But 
every  thing  here  is  wholly  inconvenient,  and  the  sedentary 
posture  for  so  long  a  time  is  very  uneasy  to  me:  nor  indeed  is 
it  likely  that  I  shall  long  be  able  to  go  on  with  it.  But  I 
have  a  strotig  reason  at  present  for  not  giving  up  the  ser- 
vice, if  1  can  help  it If,  however,  a  permanent  seminary 

can  be  founded  for  the  missionaries,  1  shall  not  sulfer  any 
personal  concern   of  mine  to  interfere;  and  indeed  I  shall 

greatly  rejoice  in  it As  far  as  I  have  seen  and  heard, 

they  give  as  little  trouble  as  men  can  do;  and  do  most  things 
for  themselves.  They  have  hitherto  been  much  respected 
and  loved  in  the  neigiiborhoodj  and  have  at  least  done 
nothing  to  hinder  my  ^^3efL!i^/ess.  Several  of  them,  in  maU 
ters  which  1  am  not  able  to  do,  have  been  a  good  deal  help« 

ful  to  me;  and  they  are,  1  think,  a  credit  to  tlie  cause.. 1 

think  it  probable  that,  re»nembering  the  way  in  which  I,  in 
a  very  slight  manner  comparatively,  brought  you  on  in 
Greek  and  Latin;  and  receiving  further  hmts  on  my  more 
matured  method  of  teaching  grown  men;  you  would  be 
vniore  likely  to  a  lopt  what  is  useful  in  my  plans,  than  a 
stranger  would  be.— But  1  only  teach  languages  m  ordine  ad 
teaching  divinity.  The  missionaries,  as  they  have  hitherto 
come  to  me,  have  been  pious  men,  but  superncial  theologi- 
ans; and  my  morning  expositions  have  bten  their  lectures 
*22 


258         ACCEPTING  ASTON  TO  THE     [Chap.  XIII. 

on  divinity, — I  hope  of  good  use.  This  part  therefore,  la 
whatever  form  it  is  put,  must  be  the  main  object. — In  respect 
of  the  Hebrew,  I  have  little  doubt  but  with  the  appUcatioQ 
of  an  hour,  or  half-an-hour  a  day,  regularly,  you  would 
soon  be  competent;  and  your  situation  would  afford  you 
many  helps:  but  not  so,  I  fear,  as  to  the  Arabic I  am  per- 
suaded I  could,  in  six  weeks,  put  you  into  the  way  of 
teaching  yourself  Arabic,  far  better  than  1  could  teach  my- 
self after  eighteen  months.  If  you  wish  to  attempt  it,  get 
Erpenius's  Grammar — not  Richardson's.  There  you  will 
have  pointed  examples,  and  short  clear  rules.;  in  which 
Kichardson  is  affectedly  deficient.  You  will  want  no  other 
book  for  a  time  but  Erpenius.  It  contains,  besides  the 
grammar,  Arabic  proverbs  and  fables,  and  one  book  of  the 
Koran,  all  pointed — the  history  of  Joseph,  worse  murdered 

than  his  brothers   ever  purposed  to  murder  him As  a 

proportion  of  our  missionaries  have  been  Germans,  and 
perhaps  will  be,  were  I  as  young  as  you,  or  not  more  than 
twenty  years  older,  and  were  I  about  to  undertake  the  ser- 
vice, I  would,  if  possible,  learn  German.  It  would  be  a 
permanent  advantage:  and  indeed  it  is  almost  impracticable 

to  go  on,  with  effect,  without  it But  let  me  beg  of  you, 

in  conclusion,  very  seriously  to  consider  and  pray  over  the 
vast  importance  of  the  undertaking,  and  the  immense  re- 
sponsibility connected  with  it.  Your  example,  spirit,  views, 
and  instructions,  w;ill  be  almost  inseparably  connected  with 
the  conduct,  spirit,  and  instructions  of  these,  who  are  to 
give  idolaters  and  Mohammedans  their  impression  of  the 
Christian  religion,  in  many  parts  of  the  world.  If  they  be 
'fiuch  as  St.  Paul  would  approve,  the  true  honor  and  useful- 
ness of  such  a  permanent  situation  will  exceed  that  of  any 
metropolitan  in  Christendom:  and,  if  the  contrary,  the  fatal 
effects  may  be  incalculable.  It  is  a  service  to  be  engaged 
in  with  much  seriousness  and  prayer — Who  is  sufficient  for 
these  things? — and  in  entire  dependence  on  the  grace  of  the 
Lord  Jesus;  I  had  almost  said,  with  fear  and  trembling. 
Yet  I  would  not  discourage  you.  If  magna  reverentia 
debeiur  puero.^  you  may  add,  major  cvangelistce.  You  should 
iStudy  well  what  St.  Paul  says  to  Timothy  on  these  subjects; 
especially  2  Tim.  iii,  10,  11.  My  prayers,  and  any  counsel 
which  I  can  give,  shall  not  be  wanting.  May  God  fit  you 
for  the  service,  appoint  you  to  it,  and  prosper  you  in  it." 
In  this  connexion  it  is  natural  to  mention  the  lively  in- 
terest taken  by  my  father  in  all  the  iostitutioasj  having  for 


1801—1813.]     SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.        259 

their  object  the  diffusion  of  Christianity  in  the  world.  It 
was  impossible  that  one,  who  had  prayed  so  long  and  so 
earnestly  for  the  extension  of  Christ's  kingdom  among  men, 
should  witness  the  Christian  world  at  length  awaking  from 
its  slumbers,  and  beginning  to  put  forth  its  powers  in  a 
manner  more  becoming  the  character  of  the  religion  which 
it  professes,  without  heart-felt  gratitude  and  joy;  or  with- 
out exerting  himself,  by  every  means  in  his  power,  to 
cherish  the  rising  spirit.  We  have  already  seen  that  he 
preached  and  published  sermons  for  several  institutions. 
Immediately  on  his  becoming  resident  at  Aston,  he  deter- 
mined to  make  an  annual  collection  in  his  congregation  for 
the  Chyrch  Missionary  Society.  Though  it  was  thought 
by  some  rather  visionary  to  expect  any  thing  worth 
notice  in  such  a  situation,  he  resolved  to  make  the  attempt, 
and  to  persevere  in  it;  convinced  that,  by  exciting  an  in- 
terest on  behalf  of  the  salvation  of  others,  Christian  minis- 
ters most  materially  promote  the  success  of  their  labors 
among  their  own  people.  His  first  collection,  beyond  all 
expectation,  exceeded  £l7;  the  third  £24;  the  sixth  £31; 
and  the  total  amount  stated  in  the  report  for  1820  is  £303 
18*.  10(/.  When  the  obscurity  of  the  parish  is  considered, 
I  hope  this  result  will  encourage  other  clergymen  to  "go 
and  do  likewise." 

The  Bible  Society  also  shared  his  warmest  attachment, 
and  its  success  afforded  him  the  most  unfeigned  joy.  Several 
of  his  latest  excursions  were  made  to  assist  at  the  meetings 
of  its  auxiliary  societies.  The  substance  of  two  of  his 
speeches  on  these  occasion;?,  one  delivered  at  High  Wy- 
combe in  1812,  and  the  other  at  the  meeting  of  the  Vale  of 
Aylesbury  society,  held  at  Haddenham  in  1816,  was,  at  the 
request  of  the  respective  committees,  reduced  to  writing, 
and  published  with  their  reports.  The  last  of  these  socie- 
ties, since  become  one  of  considerable  extent,  and  dignified 
with  high  patronage,  may  be  regarded  as  having  originated 
with  his  family;  and  its  associations  are  spread  through  the 
neighboring  villages  all  around  Aston.  The  former  of  the 
speeches  referred  to  was  delivered  just  at  the  period  of 
Dr.  Marsh's  opposition  to  the  society;  and  exhibits  a  speci- 
men of  terse  and  pointed  argumentation.  The  closing  sen- 
tences may  be  introduced  here  as  illustrative  of  its  author's 
spirit  with  regard  to  these  societies. 

"I  conclude  as  I  began:  'Precious  Bible,  what  a  treasure!' 
the  light  ofourfeet^  and  the  lanthorn  of  our  pathsi  our  guide 


260  ACCEPTING  ASTON  TO  THE     [Chap.  XIII. 

in  youth,  our  comfort  in  old  age,  our  antidote  against  the 
fear  of  death.  The  longer  I  live,  the  more  I  feel  for  those 
who  have  not  the  word  of  God.  I  am  growing  old,  and  feel 
the  infirmities  of  age.  1  know  I  must  soon  die.  1  am  a 
sinner  against  God:  I  must  appear  before  him  in  judgment:, 
I  must  exist  for  ever,  in  happiness  or  miser}^:  but  I  can  find 
no  light,  no  hope,  no  comfort,  except  from  the  Bible.  What 
should  I  do  without  the  Bible,  and  that  Savior  whom  the 
Bible  reveals  to  me? — While,  then,  the  Bible  is  our  own  in- 
valuable treasure,  the  source  of  all  our  knowledge,  hope,  and 
comfort,  let  us  do  what  we  canto  communicate  the  precious 
treasure  to  others  also,  all  over  the  world  W^e  can  do  but 
little  individually,  it  is  true;  yet  great  multitudes,  cordially 
uniting,  may  effect  much.  Time  was,  since  I  can  remem- 
ber, when,  if  I  had  possessed  the  means  in  other  respects,  I 
should  hardly  have  known  how  to  reach  out  the  blessing, 
beyond  my  own  contracted  circle.  But  this  Society,  and 
others  of  a  similar  nature,  so  to  speak,  lengthen  my  arms; 
and,  by  concurring  heartily  in  the  designs  of  those  who 
conduct  them,  we  may  stretch  out  our  hands  to  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  east  and  of  the  west — of  Africa,  of  Asia,  of  Amer- 
ica, as  well  as  of  Europe;  and  give  to  them  the  light  of  life. 
Let  us  then  do  what  we  can^  while  here;  and  so  wait  for  the 
mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto  eternal  life.'''' 

Before  bringing  the  present  chapter  to  a  close,  we  may 
advert  to  the  general  effect  of  my  father's  residence  and 
labors  at  Astort.  Upon  the  whole  he  found  it  a  more  en- 
couraging situation  than  any  other  in  which  he  had  been 
placed  since  he  quitted  the  curacy  of  Ravenstone.  In  bad 
weather  indeed  the  state  of  the  roads  was  such,  that  n  great 
nuraber  of  his  hearers  were  unable  to  reach  the  church; 
and,  on  various  accounts,  the  congregation  fluctuated  from 
time  to  time,  especially  after  the  opening  of  a  Baptist 
meeting  in  the  neighborhood,  to  which  no  small  pains  were 
taken  to  draw  all  persons  who  manifested  any  religious 
seriousness;  and  w^hich  was,  in  consequence,  a  source  of 
considerable  obstruction  and  uneasiness  to  him.  Yet,  in 
general,  the  church  was  well  attended,  and  much  good  was 
done.  Many  careless  and  worldly  persons,  and  not  a  few 
who  had  led  even  profligate  lives,  were  "converted  from 
the  error  of  their  ways,"  and  "brought  forth  fruits  meet  for 
repentance:"  and  a  considerable  body  of  evidently  pious  and 
well-instructed  Christians  was  formed  around  him:  though 
he  had  to  lament,  and  did  deeply  lament  over  many  even  of 


1801—1813.]     SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.       261 

his  nearest  neighbors,  who  still  held  out  against  all  his  ad- 
monitions and  his  prayers.  Nor  was  this  all:  by  the  earn- 
est and  active  character  of  his  united  piety  and  benevolence, 
an  impression  was  made  on  the  surrounding  neighborhood; 
an  interest  was  excited  in  behalf  of  religious  institutions; 
schools  were  established,  and  associations  formed  for  the 
relief  of  the  sick  and  needy,  where  previously  no  such 
things  had  been  thought  of  To  stir  up  Christians  'Ho  im- 
prove their  talents"  was  a  prominent  object  of  his  instruc- 
tions; and,  while  he  set  them  so  eminent  an  example  of  the 
duty  inculcated,  "his  labor  was  not,"  and  could  not  be,  "in 
vain  in  the  Lord." 

A  case,  in  which  his  assistance  was  solicited  soon  after  he 
took  up  his  abode  at  Aston,  may  also  well  deserve  to  be 
mentioned  here,  not  only  as  it  led  to  the  settlement  of  his 
second  son  in  the  situation  which  he  still  occupies,  but  es- 
pecially for  the  extraordinary  display  of  Christian  benevo- 
lence and  liberality  which  it  furnishes.  Mr.  John  West,  a 
native  of  the  village  of  Gawcott,  (a  hamlet  of  the  parish  of 
Buckingham,)  born  and  brought  up  in  very  humble  life,  and 
living  to  the  end  of  his  days  in  a  style  little  superior  to  that 
of  a  country  laborer,  had  realized,  chiefly  by  dealing  in 
thread  lace,  (the  manufacture  of  the  country,)  a  fortune  of 
several  thousand  pounds.  Having  himsf^lf  learned,  chiefly 
from  the  unassisted  study  of  the  scriptures,  the  value  of  a 
Savior,  the  great  importance  of  Christian  truths,  and  the 
great  privilege  of  religious  worship,  he  looked  with  feel- 
ings of  compassion  and  deep  concern  upon  the  irreligious 
state  of  his  native  village,  containing  nearly  five  hundred 
inhabitants,  without  any  place  of  worship  among  them,  and 
situate  a  mile  and  a  half  from  their  parish  church.  He,  in 
consequence,  formed  the  generous  purpose  of  supplying, 
entirely  from  his  own  funds,  the  deficiency  which  he  deplor- 
ed. Nor  did  he  content  himself,  as  many  have  done,  with 
making  the  requisite  provision  by  will  for  the  posthumous 
execution  of  his  design:  he  resolved  immediately  to  give  up, 
during  his  life-time,  £4000  or  £5000  for  the  purpose  of 
building  and  endowing  a  chapel  at  Gawcott.  Accordingly 
the  chapel  was  promptly  raised;  but,  the  founder  being  a 
decided  churchman,  and  determined  to  have  his  chapel  reg- 
ularly connected  with  the  establishment,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  to  vest  the  patronage  in  such  a  manner  as  he  thought 
most  likely  to  secure  its  being  served  by  a  succession  of 
truly  pious  ministers,  he  had  now  to  encounter  diflicultie* 


262  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

which  might  easily  have  been  foreseen,  but  which  he  had 
not  anticipated.  Under  these  circumstances  my  father's 
counsel  and  aid  were  sought;  and,  the  business  being  subse- 
quently turned  over  to  my  brother,  whom  Mr.  VV.  offered 
to  nominate  as  first  minister  of  the  chapel,  it  was  at  length, 
through  the  friendly  interposition  of  the  Diocesan  (the 
present  Bishop  of  Winchester)  with  the  vicar  of  Bucking- 
ham, brought  to  a  successful  issue.  The  chapel  was  open- 
ed under  an  episcopal  licence,  March  16,  1806,  and  conse- 
crated May  14,  following.  The  founder  lived  to  see  and 
rejoice  in  the  happy  effects  of  his  pious  benevolence,  in 
the  improved  state  of  the  village  and  neighborhood,  till 
September,  1814,  when  he  died  in  the  seventy-eighth  year 
of  his  age.  My  brother  published  a  funeral  sermon  on  the 
occasion,  with  a  memoir  prefixed,  in  which  some  important 
reflections  are  introduced,  on  the  great  disadvantage  under 
which  the  establishment  is  placed  by  existing  laws,  as  com- 
pared with  the  various  descriptions  of  dissenters,  in  respect 
(to  the  erection  of  churches  or  chapels;  and  wliich  actually 
amounts  to  the  exclusion  of  the  people,  in  many  country 
hamlets,  from  divine  worship  and  religious  instruction. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

LETTERS  BELONGING  TO  THE  PERIOD  OF  THE  PRECEDING  CHAPTER* 

We  now  proceed  to  my  father's  correspondence  during  the 
period  we  have  been  reviewing.  We  will  present  some 
extracts  bearing  upon  different  topics. 

1.     On  the  work  of  the  ministry. 

The  discouragement  arising  from  the  want  of  apparent 
success  is  a  feeling  to  which,  it  has  been  already  observed, 
those  who  are  laboring  in  "tlie  work  of  the  Lord,"  against 
all  the  obstacles  of  this  evil  world,  must  be  often  exposed. 
To  such  persons  the  following  observations  may  be  both 
interesting  and  useful: — 

"March  11,  1804.  You  express  great  discouragement  as 
to  the  success  ofyour  ministerial  labors;  of  course  you  mean 
the  visible  success.  This,  1  am  convinced,  is  a  temptation 
to  which  you  are  peculiarly  exposed,  and  peculiarly  acces- 
sible: yet,  if  it  once  get  fast  hold  ofyour  mind,  it  will  have 
a  very  unfavorable  effect  on  the  aggregate   ofyour  useful- 


1801—1814.]  LETTERS.  263 

ness  in  future  life I  tnist  God  has  given  you  a  simple 

desire  of  serving  and  glorifying  him  as  a  Christian:  nay,  I 
cannot  but  think  you  set  out  with  such  a  desire  oi  gloritymg 
him  as  a  minister.^  by  directing  all  your  studies  and  labors 
to  that  grand  object,  the  salvation  of  sinners;  subordinating 
all  other  pursuits  to  it.     Now,  if  this  be  so,  can  you  beheve 
that  he  intends,  after  all,  to  leave  you  finally  to  labor  in 
Vain,  and  spend  your  strength  to  little  or  no  purpose?  Should 
such  a  feeling  possess  your  mind,   yOu   may  not  cease   to 
serve  God  as  a  Christian;  but  that  fire  which  must  animate 
the  zealous  minister  will  be  smothered,  or  at  least  damped; 
and  you  will  gradually  get  to  seek  that  satisfaction  in  other 
engagements,  studies,  and  pursuits,   which  the  ministry   of 
the  gospel  has   not  afforded,  and  which  you  prematurely 
concluded  that  you,  in  particular,  were  not  to  derive  from 
it.     In  consequence,  you   may  render  yourself  respectable, 
perhaps  more   so,  in  the  world;  but  no  literary  honors,  no 
worldly  prosperity  or  reputation,  no  usefulness  in  any  oth- 
er line,  can  satisfy  the  ardent  desire  of  my  heart  in  respect 
of  you,  if  }ou  be  not  useful,  1  will  say  extensively   useful,  as 
a  mmister.     Without  a  measure  of  enthusiastic  earnestness 
in  the  pursuit  of  his  object,  you  know   no   man  succeeds 
greatly  in  any  thing:  beware   then  of  that  discouragement, 
which  (to  use  your  own  word,)  tends  toy^ara/z^c  your  efforts. 
Remember,  that  there  is  joy  in  heaven   over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth;  (I  preached  on  that  subject  this  afternoon:)  and, 
supposing  only  one  in  a  year  should  be  brought  to  repent- 
ance, what  else  can  you  do  that  would  cause  joy  to  holy 
angels?  ....  Perhaps,   at  first  setting  out,  you  might  'be 
ready  to  think  that  a  style  of  preaching,  which  was  general- 
ly acceptable  to  pious  people,  was  all  that  need  be  aimed  at; 
and  that  success  would  ibliow  of  course.     It   may  be  need- 
ful   for  you    to  learn,    that  pious   persons   hear  more  for 
themselves  than  for  their  unconverted  neighbors;  and  that 
you  must  risk  dissatisfying  some   of  them,    if  you    would 
dp.clare  the  whole  counsel  of  God^  and   keep  yourself  pure 
from  the  blood  of  all  men.     Perhaps  you  looked  at  some  in- 
dividuals as  models,  and  too  much  proposed  imitating  them; 
though  rather  cramping  the   energy   of  your  spirit  by   so 
doing.     1  say  perhaps  in  these   things,   merely  to  excite  a 
question.     But  my  prevalent  opinion  is,  that  you  are  useful, 
but  do  not  see  the  effect.     Even  at  Ravenstone  I  remember 
complaining  in  a  new  year's   sermon,    that  for  a  whole 
twelvemonth  1  bad  seen  no  fruit  of  my  preaching:  yet  it 


264  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

appeared,  within  the  course  of  the  next  twelvemonth,  that 
not  less  than  ten  or  twelve  had  been  brought  to  consider 
their  ways^  during  that  discouraging  year;  besides  others,  I 
trust,  that  I  did  not  know  of.  Cast  thy  bread  on  the  waters, 
and  it  shall  be  found  after  many  days.  In  the  morning  sotb 
thy  seed,  and  in  the  evening  withhold  not  thine  hand:  for  thou 
canst  not  tell  which  shall  prosper,  or  whether  both  shall  be  alike 
good.  Endeavor  by  laying  open  the  holy  law,  very  par- 
ticularly, to  follow  men  into  all  the  parts  of  their  lives,  and 
actions,  and  thoughts.  Dwell  much  on  the  nature  and  ef- 
fects of  regeneration,  repentance,  faith;  and  on  the  pe- 
culiarities of  the  gospel,  especially  the  love  of  Christ. 
Pray  much  for  direction,  assistance,  and  a  blessing;  and  for  - 
simplicity  q^  intention  and  dependence.  Try  not  to  be  sta- 
tionary; but  to  bring  forth  things  nezv,  as  well  as  old;  that 
your  prof  ting  may  appear  unto  all:  and  wait  patiently  in  this 
way.  Or,  in  the  apostle's  words.  Give  thyself  wholly  there- 
unto: Take  heed  to  thyself  and  to  the  doctrine;  continue  in 
them;  for,  in  so  doing,  thou  shalt  both  save  thyself  and  them 
that  hear  thee.  In  this  way,  I  have  no  doubt  that  you  will 
eventually  find  a  large  number  to  be  your  crown  of  re- 
joicing in  the  day  of  Christ;  nay,  many  to  be  your  comfort 
here.  But  waiting  is  as  necessary  as  preaching  and  pray- 
ing." 

In  another  letter:  "The  Lord  generally  does  good  ^ous, 

and    then    by   us Should  a   dozen    careless  sinners, 

amidst  hundreds  of  drowsy  hearers,  be  effectually  awaken- 
ed, this  would  make  all  the  rest  begin  to  look  about  them. 
For  such  an  event  I  would  look,  and  hope,  and  pray;  and 
preach  such  sermons  as  seemed  best  calculated  for  the  ef- 
fect; saying  to  all  that  might  object,  "/s  there  not  a  cause?'''' 

To  a  young  minister,  about  to  remove  to  London,  he 
wrote  as  follows: — 

"July  2,  1807.  You  know  I  am  not  peculiarly  i*avorable 
to  young  ministers  fixing  in  London,  where  almost  all  are  ei- 
ther/m^g-oec?  ov  kicked  to  death,  according  as  they  are  popu- 
lar or  unpopular;  and  that  I  am  partial  to  a  country  village 
of  tolerable  size I  hope  you  will  redouble  your  earn- 
estness in  prayer  as  the  importance  of  your  station  is  in- 
creased. I  should  think  that  considerable  time  employed 
in  study  of  the  scriptures,  and  such  books  as  elucidate  the 
scriptures,  is  so  needful  on  entering  on  a  station  in  that 
large  city,  in  order  that  your  ministry  may  be  less  and  less 
like  the  superficial  declamation  of  too  many  young  minis- 


J50I— 1813.]  LETTERS.  '  265 

ters,  that,  unless  necessity  urges,  it  would  be  best  not  to  be 
encumbered  with  pupils  at  present.  I  should  be  glad  (o  hear 
that  you  wrote  a  good  deal,  though  you  should  not  use  what 
you  write,  either  in  preaching  or  print:  it  gives  a  man  ai 
readiness,  a  correctness  of  thinking  and  expression  on  the- 
ological subjects,  and  a  fulness,  which  mere  reading  will 
never  do.  Have,  however,  something  to  do,  which  may 
be  a  reason  for  declining  many  of  those  gossipping  unprotita- 
ble  visits,  in  which  so  many  London  ministers  waste,  and 
worse  than  waste,  their  hours." 

Some  pubhcations,  which  appeared  about  that  time,  oc- 
casioned the  following  remarks  in  a  letter  to  a  lady,  whose 
t^onnexions  lay  in  the  most  respectable  classes  of  religious 
society: — 

"1  am  not  sorry  for  the  opportunity  of  speaking  my  mind, 
not  only  on  this,  but  on  some  other  publications,  which  have 
a  measure  of  the  same  tendency.  It  may,  I  think,  without 
partiality,  be  said, that  the  body  of  men  called  evangelical  clev' 
gyrnen^  (I  do  not  say  who  gave  ihem  that  name — I  did  not,) 
are  the  persons,  at  least  within  the  church,  from  whom  there 
is  the  greatest  hope  of  a  revival  of  genuine  Christianity. 
Now  IS  it  possible  that  you,  and  your  pious  and  sensible 
friends,  can  think,  that  bringing  forward,  in  so  public  a  man- 
ner, by  a  profi'ssed  friend,  without  mercy  or  distinction^  all 
their  real  and  supposed  faults,  is  the  way  to  strengthen  their 
hands,  and  promote  their  success?  The  tendency  of  such  etr 
system  iS,  to  make  the  young  people, especially,  hear  our  ser- 
mons,and  take  up  our  books,  not  only  with  prejudice,  but  with 
a  secret  desire  of  shewing  their  discernment,  by  discovering 
defects  m  style, in  manner,  &,c.;  something  'vulgar,  and  melho- 
distical,  or  sectarian,''  or  like  it.  Now  can  this  subserve  their 
edification?  Such  writers  as  the  Monthly  Reviewers  have^ 
in  many  instances,  pointed  out  inaccuracies,  colloquial  and 
low  expressions,  &c.,  in  my  writings;  and  I  have  thanked 
them,  and  profited  by  their  remarks:  but  this  way  of  indefi- 
nitely speaking  of  defects,  and  faults,  and  vulgarity,  and 
casts  of  sectarianism,  and  the  like,  without  specifying  par- 
ticulars, excites  prejudices,  and  gives  no  opportunity  of 
avoiding  them.  I  have,  for  almost  thirty  years,  been  la- 
boring to  weed  out  of  my  writings,  and  to  induce  others  to 
do  the  same,  every  unscriptural  expression,  from  whatever 
quarter  or  company  derived:  but  no  distinction  is  made  be- 
tween this,  and  the  slang  of  a  sect  or  party.  Nay,  it  seems, 
scriptural  language  itself  must  be  changed  for  more  moderoi 
23 


266  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

terms;  and  then  modern  doctrines  will  supplant  that  of  the 
apostles.  It  is  also  to  me  a  very  extraordinary  thing,  that 
wisdom  and  prudence  should  be  the  young  man's  virtues, 
and  rashness  the  old  man's  fault.  This  does  not  accord  to 
facts  in  general.  In  reality  I  do  believe  pubUcations  of  this 
kind  tend  to  render  young  ministers  more  afraid  of' being 
zealous  than  of  being  lukewarm.  They  teach  them  to  call  the 
fear  qfman^  prudence:  and  the  whole  tends  to  form  an  in- 
efficient ministry;  some  part,  at  least,  of  evangelical  truth 
coldly,  formally,  cautiously  stated,  with  little  application. 
And,  after  all,  1  must  prefer  the  Newtons,  Venns,  nay  Berj- 
ridges,  kc. — the  old  warm-hearted  men,  with  all  their  im- 
perfections, to  these  sangfroid  young  men." 

With  this  extract  may  be  connected  another  addressed  to 
myself,  in  November  of  the  same  year,  which  was  afterwards 
made  the  basis  of  a  paper  in  a  periodical  pubhcation.* 
These  heads  of  the  paper  may  sufficiently  explain  his  senti- 
ments in  this  place: 

>  "You  wish  my  opinion  on  the  controverted  question,  how 
far  the  faults  of  upright  ministers  are  proper  subjects  of  pub- 
lic discussion?  a  question  at  this  era  peculiarly  interesting, 
as  more  is  said  by  many  professed  friends  on  their  faults, 
real  or  imaginary,  than  on  those  of  any  other  description  of 
persons — at  least  with  more  minuteness.  1  st,  I  do  not  think 
any  order  of  men  privileged  by  exemption  from  proper  in- 
vestigation, and  just  censure  of  their  conduct:  nor  would 
such  an  exemption  be  an  advantage,  but  the  contrary.  2d, 
I  think  that,  in  examining  and  censuring  any  body  of  men, 
either  they  should  be  viewed  alone;  or,  if  another  body  be 
brought  forward  with  them,  the  faults  of  both  bodies  should 
be  specified  with  equal  severity  and  equal  candor:  else  where 
is  impartiality?  3d,  I  think  that,  in  order  to  this  investigation 
and  censure,  some  precise  rule  should  be  previously  laid 
down,  (for  instance,  of  the  evangelical  clergy,  the  Bible  and 
Prayer-book,)  and  nothing  charged  as  a  fault  which  cannot 
be  shewn  to  be  such  by  this  precise  rule.  Otherwise,  opin- 
fon,  however  erroneous,  or  custom,  however  corrupt,  or 
fancy,  however  capricious,  may  be  made  the  standard,  ac- 
cording to  the  prejudices  of  the  soi-disant  judge.  4th,  I 
think  that  the  real  excellencies  of  upright  characters,  allow- 
edly such,  and  especially  of  those  from  whom  the  best  hope 
of  good  to  the  rising  generation   of  mankind,   in   general 

♦Christian  Guardian,  May  1810, 


I 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS.  '  267 

arises,)  should  be  prominently  marked,  when  faults  are  to 
be  pointed  out;  and  nothing  aggravated;  nay,  all  touched 
as  leniently  as  the  hope  of  amending  them  will  allow:  and 
if,  in  any  collective  body,  some  individuals  are  excepted 
from  the  general  charge,  they  should  not  only  be  exempted 
from  the  censure  conveyed,  but  honorably  distinguished.  It 
can  answer  no  good  purpose  needlessly  to  sink  the  credit  and 
influence  of  the  only  men  who  seem  likely  to  do  extensive 
good  among  us;  which  has  lately  been  done  to  a  great  de- 
gree. 5th,  I  think  that,  in  every  thing  respecting  style, 
manner,  &.C.,  the  charge  should  be  specitic  and  precise,  not 
vague  and  general;  that  we  may  know  what  to  correct: 
which  is  not  the  case  in  many  of  the  censures  passed. 
Lastly,  God  gives  one  gift  to  one,  another  to  another:  the 
treasure  is  m  earthen  vessels:  but  ideal  perfection,  like  that 
of  the  hero  of  the  novel,  is  made  the  standard,  and  all  in 
real  life  are  despised  for  falling  short  of  it." 

My  father,  it  is  generally  known,  was  accustomed  to  use 
a  short  prayer,  adapted  to  the  occasion,  before  his  sermons; 
to  preach  extemporary,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  un- 
written sermons;  and  those  of  a  greater  length  than  is  in 
many  places  usual.  On  the  first  of  these  practices,  he 
wrote  rather  urgently,  after  a  visit  to  Hull  in  1811:— 

"I  do  greatly  wish  an  alteration  in  your  prayer  before 
sermon.  Here  I  do  not  urge  you  to  pray  extempore;  but 
only  to  bring  together  some  parts  of  different  collects,  or  in 
some  way  to  make  your  collect  a  prayer  for  assistance,  and 
a  blessing  on  the  important  service  on  which  you  are  enter- 
ing. It  may  be  said  that  you  pray  for  assistance  and  a  bless- 
ing in  private:  but  do  you  lay  no  stress  on  the  concurrence 
of  hundreds  in  prayer  for  this  blessing?  and,  so  to  speak,  on 
the  sympathy  excited  in  the  congregation  by  a  few  words, 
not  much,  if  at  all,  longer  than  your  collect,  in  which  the 
divine  assistance  and  blessing  are  avowedly  craved  on  the 
sermon?  It  appears  to  me  often  to  electrify  the  congrega- 
tion; and  to  produce  the  expectation  and  the  desire  of  good, 
which  is  more  especially  needful.  The  collects  are  not 
calculated  for  this  purpose:  they  do  not  express  the  spe- 
cial blessings  wanted:  and  they  lie  more  open  to  the  objec- 
tion of  repeating  prayers  already  ofi'ered,  than  what  I 
contend  for.  I  cannot  express  how  much  I  felt  this  defi- 
ciency. 1  must  be  allowed  to  think,  that  we  have  not  suc- 
cess, because  we  ask  not,  and  do  not  stir  up  others  to  expect 
and  ask  a  blessing  from  God  only.     1  beg  you  will  consider 


S68  LETTERS.  [Chap.  Xm 

and  pray  over  it.  Every  year  convinces  me  more  and 
more  of  the  necessity  of  thus  expressly  asking  the  blessing 
from  God,  publicly,  on  our  preaching. 

On  the  other  points,  I  give  the  folio  wing  brief  extracts: — 

"1808.  The  fault  of  short  sermons  is,  not  that  there  is 
not  as  much  said  as  the  hearers  can  remember,  but  that 
there  is  not  room  for  explanation  and  application;  for  enter- 
ing into  those  minute  particulars  which  most  come  home  to 
the  conscience.  And,  as  to  the  length,^  what  people  are 
used  to,  they  expect,  and  complain  only  of  what  exceeds  it, 
be  the  stint  more  or  less." 

"1812.  I  never  heard  a  half-hour  sermon,  which  did  not 
either  fail  in  particular  instruction  in  doctrine  and  duty,  or 
was  not,  in  part,  frustrated  of  its  effect  by  too  rapid  de- 
livery." 

"1809.  The  degree  in  which,  after  the  most  careful 
preparation  for  the  pulpit,  new  thoughts,  new  arguments, 
animated  addresses,  often  flow  into  my  mind,  while  speak- 
ing to  a  congregation,  even  on  very  common  subjects,  makes 
me  feel  as  if  I  was  quite  another  man,  than  when  poring 
over  ihem  in  my  study. — There  will  be  inaccuracies:  but 
generally  the  most  striking  things  in  my  sermons  were  un- 
premeditated." 

"February  12,  1812.  What  lies  do  men  tell  of  us  evan- 
gelical and  Calvinistic  ministers!  Witness  Dr. 's  ser- 
mon at  Cambridge.  We  are  not  likely  to  fall  under  the  woe 
denounced  against  those  of  whom  all  Jiien  speak  zvell:  but  if 
we  enjoy  the  blessing  of  those  concerning  whom  men  speak 
evil  falsely  y  for  Chrisfs  sake^  it  may  console  us  for  all  the 
effects  of  their  slanders.  J  have  prayed  for  such  persons 
more  of  late  than  formerly,  in  the  use  of  the  Litany;  for 
'all  bishops,  priests,  and  deacons,'  &,c.;  for  those  who  are 
'in  error^  that  they  may  be  led  into  the  way  of  truth;'  and 
for  all  our  'slanderers,'  &c. 

"1804.  I  fear  many  are  too  timid,  as  many  are  harsh, 
rash,  and  unfeeHng  upon  the  subject.  Nothing  does  so 
much  harm  as  trying  to  keep  fair  with  anti-scriptural  and  un- 
holy preachers;  which  I    fear,  though   less   offensive  than 

Mr. 's  abuse,  is  as  pernicious.     May  the  Lord  keep 

\is  from  extremes!" 

U.  On  provision  for  families,  and  education  of  children, 
particularly  those  of  ministers. 

In  reply  to  some  questions  concerning  life  insurance,  m. 
180v5.  he  made  the  followinor  observations: 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS.  269 

"Nor  do  I  think  it,  in  a  religious  view,  liable  to  any  other 
objection,  than  may  be  made  to  laying  by  money  at  all — 
which  is  in  many  cases  allowable,  and  in  several  a  duty; 
where  it  can  be  done  consistently  with  equity  and  charity. 
If  a  man  have  faith  strong  enough,  and  urgent  occasions  call 
for  it,  he  may  perhaps  do  as  well  for  his  family,  if  he  ex- 
pends it  in  judicious  charities.  But,  when  it  comes  to  this^ 
that  a  man  has  more  than  he  ought  to  expend  on  himself 
and  his  family,  I  should  always  advise  him  to  lay  aside  a 
certain  portion  for  charitable  purposes,  before  he  counts  the 
rest  his  own,  either  to  spend  or  to  lay  by.  The  proportion 
must  be  determined  by  a  variety  of  circumstances,  accord- 
ing to  his  conscience  in  the  sight  of  God.  In  some  cases  I 
should  Ihink  it  proper  to  make  a  point  of  disposing  in  charity 
of  at  least  as  much  as  was  laid  by:  and  this  1  call  5ecc?-coni." 

*' August  30,  1807.  As  far  as  my  conscience  was  satisfied 
as  to  the  question  of  duty ^  I  never  have  allowed  myself  to 
hesitate  about  events  or  consequences.  I  cannot  but  conclude 
from  the  scriptures,  that  the  Lord  will  provide  for  us  and 
ours  what  is  needful  for  them,  at  present  and  in  future;  and 
that  our  concern  is,  to  do  our  duty,  and  leave  the  rest  to 
him,  living  and  dying.  This,  I  think,  is  especially  the  priv- 
ilege of  the  dhinterested  and  laborious  minister;^  but  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  that  worldly  prudence,  and  the  desire  of  mak- 
ing provision  lor  families,  not  only  for  necessary  things,  but 
for  gentility  and  affluence,  is,  in  my  opinion,  eating  out  the 
life  of  spirituality,  and  simple  trust  in  the  Lord,  even  among 
those  who  preach  scriptural  doctrine.  The  spirit  of  the 
commercial  world,  having  long  corroded  the  professors  of 
the  gospel,  is  now  making  havoc  among  ministers.  *The 
plan  of  marrying  rich  wives,  or  presiding  over  very  lucra- 
tive academies,  would  have  made  St,  Paul  dolefully  cry  out. 
All  seek  their  ozvn^  not  the  things  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  believe 
those  who  thus  seem  to  insure  a  provision  for  their  families, 
or  security  against  the  effects  which  marriage  may  entail  on 
a  man  of  narrow  income,  are  clogged  in  their  ministry,  nay 
sink  in  general  estimation,  and  are  excluded  from  usefulness^ 
more  tlian  they  are  aware  of.  Indeed  it  is  to  me  one  ot* 
the  most  discouraging  symptoms  of  the  religious  state  of 
our  land.  1  have  been  nearly  thirty-five  years  in  orders; 
and,  except  during  two  years  that  I  continued  single,  my 
regular  income,  as  a  minister,  would  never  defray  more 
than  half  my  expenditure:  yet,  though  often  tried,  I  en- 
deavored to  trust  the  Lord,  and  I  have  been  provided  for. 
*23 


J70  LETTERS.  [Chap.   XIV, 

Mr.  Newton's  story  of  the  nobleman  whom  the  king  requir- 
ed to  attend  to  his  business,  and  he  would  take  care  of  th^e 
nobleman's  interest,  has  been  of  great  use  to  me.  .  .  .  To 
those,  who  seem  to  think  it  pitiable^  that  your  children  are 
not  previously  provided  for,  I  should  fairly  avow  my,  senti- 
me«ts,  that  the  Christian,  and  above  all  the  minister,  is  to  seek 
first  the  kingdom  of  God,  for  himself  and  his  children,  and 
that  God  has  expressly  promised,  that  all  else  shall  be  added. 
Your  Father  knoweth  what  things  ye  have  need  of  If  I,  a  poor 
sinner,  had  £100  to  spare  without  any  inconvenience,  and 
knew  that  you  really  wanted  it,  should  1  not  give  it  you? 
How  much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father,  &c. 

"As  to  a  good  educationy  in  the  sense  in  which  the  term  is 
often  used,  I  had  rather  my  daughters,  or  grand-daughters, 
showld  know  nothing  more  than  to  read  and  write,  and  do 
plain  work,  than  send  them  (even  if  others  would  bear  the 
expence,)  to  those  seminaries  of  frivolity,  vanity,  and  vice,  in 
which  such  a  good  education  is  obtained.  If  brought  up  in 
the  fear  of  God,  and  in  useful  knowledge,  without  affecting 
any  thing  superior,  or  genteel,.. ..they   will,  at  least,  b<j 

creditable  and  respectable. The  good  education,  ^o  called^ 

cannot  be  had  without  habits,  connexions,  associations  of 
ideas,  he,  unfitting  them  for  obscure  domestic  lite 

''I  am  a  great  friend  to  men's  doing  all  as  well  as  they  pos- 
sibly can;  but  an  enemy  to  minister's  being  swallowed  up 
in  the  employment  of  school-masters." 

In  the  same  strain  he  writes,  January  26, 1809. — '^'In  the 
path  of  duty,  you  may  safely  trust  the  Lord  for  a  suitable 
provision,  however  probabilities  may  appear;  as  my  expe- 
rience for  many  years  abundantly  proves.. ....While  I  do  not 

materially  object  to  your  idea,  that,  if  fairly  in  your  power,, 
it  might  be  proper  to  make  some  provision  for  your  family ,j 
1  would  exhort  you,  by  all  means,  to  watch  against  all 
anxiety,  about  either  the  present  or  the  future  respecting 
them.  Diligence,  frugality,  prudence,  are  duties;  but 
■events  are  in  the  hands  of  God.  The  wealth  of  the  sinner  is 
laid  up  for  the  just.  God  can  provide  for  your  children 
without  you,  you  cannot  without  him." 

The  following  short  sentence,  in  a  letter  of  February 
12,  1812,  still  manifests  his  supreme  regard  for  the  great 
concern,  and  indiiference  to  temporal  interests  in  compari- 
son with  it.  '^The  grand  mischief  of  guardians  is,  that 
even   pious  persons  are  so  apt  to  consult  the  secular  a,d- 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS,  27t 

vantage  of  their  wards,  in  preference  to  their  spiritual 

The  following  counsel  to  his  youngest  son,  then  on  the 
eve  of  marriage,  October  5,  1811,  is  such  as  it  would  have 
been  for  the  happiness  of  thousands  to  have  duly  regarded. 
It  is  not  necessary  in  order  to  the  comfort  or  respectabihty 
of  a  clergyman,  to  raise  his  income  to  the  level  of  a  large 
expenditure;  but  it  is  necessary  to  his  comfort,  his  inde- 
pendence, and  his  usefulness,  to  keep  down  his  expences 
within  the  Umits  of  his  resources. 

^'Next  to  the  great  concerns  of  religion,  nothing  can  be 
more  important  than  frugality,  in  your  present  situation  and 
prospects,  both  to  your  comfort,  respectability,  and  useful- 
ness. If  your  launch  be  too  splendid,  you  will  be  expected 
to  keep  it  up:  but  a  modest  frugal  appearance  will  damp 
such  expectations,  and  make  your  future  progress  more. 
easy  and  unobstructed:  and  you  must  not  think  that  rnean^ 
which  is  your  duty,  and  as  much  as  you  can  well  afford. — 
May  the  Almighty  God  our  Savior  bless  you  in  your  soul 
and  in  your  ministry!  May  his  blessing  be  abundantly  on 
you,  and  on  your  intended  wife,  and  on  all  your  undertak- 
ings!" 

III.  On  the  death  of  children  and  near  friends — with 
proofs  of  his  tenderness  and  sympathy. 

The  following  was  written  upon  the  supposition  of  the 
death  of  my  second  daughter. 

"March  15,  1805.  We  were  all  much  aiTected  at  the 
unexpected  account  of  poor  Fanny's  very  dangerous  disor- 
der, for  we  had  hoped  that,  by  proper  means,  her  cold 
would  soon  hnve  been  removed;  and  we  very  sincerely 
sympathize  with  you.  Whatever  they  may  suppose,  who 
never  experienced  it,  few  things,  at  the  time,  more  pain 
tlie  heart,  than  the  loss  of  a  child,  even  when  young;  and 
especially  at  the  time  when  a  thousand  Httle  circumstances 
render  it  more  and  more  interesting.  This  1  know  by  ex- 
perience: yet,  after  a  time,  the  \ery  events,  which  tilled 
my  heart  with  anguish  for  a  season,  were  looked  back  upon 
with  a  kind  of  melancholy  pleasure.  And,  when  I  consider 
what  a  dangerous  world  we  live  in,  I  can  almost  rejoice  to 
thmk,  that  three  of  my  children  arrived,  as  1  fully  trust,  at 
the  place  of  rest,  without  encountering  the  perils  and  tem- 
pests of  the  passage.  My  prayer  used  to  be,  as  the  result 
^of  my  dehberate  judgment,  though  not  of  my  feelings,  that, 
if  the  Lord  had  any  thing  for  my  children  to  do,  they 


n2  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

might  be  spared;  but  that  the}^  might  not  live  to  be  the  ser- 
vants of  sin,  and  to  treasure  up  wrath:  and  I  trust  this 
prayer  has  been,  or  will  be,  fully  answered. — You  remem- 
ber to  have  heard  me  tell  of  the  time,  when  you  were  the 
only  survivor  of  three  children,  and  were  dangerously  ill 
of  the  same  fever  of  which  your  sister  had  died;  how  my 
heart  was  almost  broken:  but  I  am  persuaded  this  time  of 
distress  was  peculiarly  useful  to  me;  and  I  often  look  back 
to  it  with  admiring  gratitude,  when  I  reflect  on  the  answer 
to  my  many  prayers,  which,  with  many  iears,  I  then  offered 
for  you.  And  \  doubt  not  that  you  will  hereafter  look  back 
on  your  present  trial,  sharp  as  it  is,  in  the  same  manner. — 
Really  believing  that  every  human  being  will  exist  to  eternal 
ages,  and  that  the  children,  at  least  of  believers,  dying  be- 
fore they  are  capable  of  committing  actual  sin,  have  the 
benefit  ot  the  new  covenant;  I  consider  the  circ^mistance  of 
being  instrumental  to  the  existence  of  those,  who  shall  b& 
eternally  happy,  as  a  high  privilege  and  favor;  even  though 
the}'  be  speedily  taken  from  us:  and  I  look  forward,  some- 
times, with  pleasure  to  the  period,  when  I  hope  to  meet 
again  those  who  were  early  taken  from  me,  as  well  as  to  be 
followed  by  those  that  survive  me.  , 

"A  variety  of  circumstances  are  often  permitted  to  in- 
crease the  anguish  of  our  feelings  on  such  occasions:  and  es- 
pecially the  redection  on  something,  that  either  we  or  others 
have  done  wrong^  which  proves  the  occasion  of  the  afflic- 
tion. But,  thougn  we  may  have  reason  to  blame  the  mis- 
conduct of  others,  or  to  regret  any  mistake  we  may  suppose 
that  we  have  made, — and  hence  may  learn  something  useful 
for  the  future;  yet  the  hand  of  God  should  be  viewed  even 
in  those  events,  which  take  place  hy  the  folly  and  faults  of 
men:  and  he  has  wise,  righteous,  faithful,  and  gracious  rea- 
sons for  what  he  did,  and  for  what  he  permitted. 

"It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  parents  should  not  feel  and 
grieve  much,  on  these  occasions;  and  ituleed  the  very  eod 
of  the  providential  dispensation  would  fail  of  being  answer- 
ed, if  they  did  not:  but  1  would  remind  your  wife,  especial- 
ly, that  grief  ought  no  more  to  be  indulged  than  any  other 
of  our  passions;  though  many  think,  that  being  inconsolable 
at  the  loss  of  beloved  relatives  is  amiable,  who  would  be 
shocked  at  the  idea  of  indulging  many  other  passions.  Every 
thing  in  our  nature  wants  regulating,  moderating,  and  sub- 
ordinating to  the  will  of  God;  and  natural  affection  as  well 
as  the  rest.    Several  particulars,  in  which  faith  and  submig- 

-    I 


laoi— 1813.]  LETTERS.  273 

sion  to  God  greatly  consist  on  earth,  will  have  no  ])lace  in 
heaven.  Of  this  kind  is  patience  under  sharp  afflictions^. 
This  is  very  honorable  to  God,  edifying  to  our  brethren, 
and  profitable  to  ourselves:  but  without  sharp  affliction  we 
should  have  no  opportunity  of  exercising  it.  This  is,  then, 
an  opportunity  given  you  of  experiencing  and  manifesting 
the  power  and  excellency  of  your  principles;  which  may 
eventually  be  of  great  importance  in  various  ways. — la 
reading  of  our  Lord's  miracles,  the  reflection  often  occurs 
to  me;  would  not  those  who  endured  the  sharpest  sorrows, 
(Mar3^,  Martha,  and  Lazarus,  for  instance,)  with  the  full 
view  of  all  the  honor  to  Christ,  and  all  the  good  to  mankind, 
which  arose,  and  still  arises,  and  shall  for  ever  arise,  front 
their  exquisite  anguish  of  heart;  have  been  willing  to  go 
through  the  whole  again,  if  again  such  vast  advantages 
might  result  from  it?  At  least,  they  would  not  on  any  ac- 
count, have  escaped  sufi'ering  what  they  did,  now  that  they 
see  all  the  reasons  why  they  suffered.  Yet,  at  the  time, 
they  had  no  idea  of  the  ends  to  be  answered  by  their  dis- 
tresses: and  the  same  wisdom  and  love  order  our  troubles, 
both  as  te  the  nature  and  the  result  of  them,  which  ordered 
theirs.  What  I  do  thou  knowest  not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know 
hereafter. — All  these  things  are  against  mel  But  what  does 
Jacob  now  think  of  these  transactions? 

"All  this,  however,  you  know,  and,  1  trust,  remember. — ^ 
I  would  also  hint,  that  you  should  be  careful  not  too  much 
to  indulge  the  fond  remembrance  of  endearing  circumstan- 
ces; for  this  feeds  a  kind  and  degree  of  grief,  not  consistent 
with  submission  to  the  will  of  God. — If  1  may  judge  by  my- 
self, you  will  find  •this  dispensation,  Jn  the  event,  greatly 
subservient  in  helping  you  to  realize  an  unseen  world,  and 
in  exciting  earnestness  in  prayer.  As  a  minister,  you  will 
often  have  occasion  to  counsel  and  comfort  others  in  similar 
circumstances;  and  you  will  do  this  both  with  more  feeling  , 
and  more  influence,  as  having  experienced  the  painful  trial 
yourself.  Perhaps  many  trials  are  allotted  us  on  this  very 
account:  (2  Cor.  i,  4 — 6:)  and  this  suggests  an  important 
plea,  in  pray.er,  for  wisdom  and  grace  to  bear  and  improve 
the  trial  in  a  proper  manner.— We  are  apt  to  say  of  this  or 
the  other  creature.  This  same  shall  comfort  us:  and  thus  the 
gifts  of  our  God  insensibly  draw  our  hearts  from  him;  and 
then  it  becomes  necessary,  almost,  for  him  to  wither  our 
gourds.  He  does  so  in  love;  ^nd  we  shall  know,  at  length, 
Ihat  we  have  cause  to  be  thankful. — When  1  think  of  the 


i^74  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

manner  in  which  Aaron  lost  his  two  sons,  Nadab  and  Abihu, 
(Lev.  X:)  and  David,  his  Amnon  and  Absalom;  and  of  many 
other  instances  of  this  kind;  I  am  ready  to  say.  How  light, 
comparatively,  would  the  trial  have  been,  had  they  lost 
them  when  infants!  And  yet  they  would  have  felt,  in  that 
case,  the  same  things  that  you  now  do. 

'4  have  written  a  great  deal,  of  what,  in  some  cases, 
might  be  called  common-place;  and,  not  being  very  well,  I 
seem  to  have  little  energy  in  writing:  but,  in  affliction,  a 
hint  suggested  to  memory  is  often  welcome  and  useful.  I 
shall  only  add  that,  if  Frances  should  give  way  to  grief,  so  as 
not  to  take  proper  care  of  her  health,  she  would  shew  love 
where  it  must  be  useless,  and  fail  in  it  where  it  may  be  es- 
sentially beneficial;  as  well  as  in  submission  to  God. — I 
write  on  the  supposition  that  the  dear  child  either  is  gone, 
or  will  not  recover:  but  perhaps  the  Lord  may  have  heard 
prayer  for  her  recovery." 

Some  other  short  extracts  may  shew  the  warmth  of  hi» 
affection  not  only  to  his  grand-children,  who  were  the  im- 
mediate objects  of  them,  but  towards  some  whom  he  had 
long  since  lost,  but  never  ceased  to  remember  with  tender- 
ness 

"July  23, 1805.  I  feel  for  my  poor  dear  Jane,  who,  I 
suppose,  hardly  remembers  me:  but  her  name,''''  (she  was 
called  after  her  grand-mother,)  "and  every  thing,  makes 
me  feel  tenderly  for  her." 

"January  11,  1807.     As  I  am  rather  dry  in  my  manner, 

I  do  not  know  whether  you  were  aware  how  much 

was  my  favorite,  when  I  was  at  Hull.  The  account  of  her 
sickness  and  suffering,  and  all  respecting  her,  affected  me 
more  than  you  would  probably  suppose:  and  the  thoughts 
©f  my  ever  dear  Anne  came  into  my  mind,  with  a  force  that 
I  have  not  felt  for  some  years. — Well,  I  began  to  be  com- 
forted under  the  idea,  that,  if  poor should  be  taken 

from  you  and  us,  the  Lord  would  prepare  her,  or  was  pre- 
paring her,  for  a  happier  world.  But  other  things  followed 
which  more  deeply  affected  me.  However,  after  all,  I 
hope  that  God  will  hear  prayer,  and  spare  the  dear  child; 
and  spare  her  for  good;  and  ot^er-rule  the  whole  for  good 
to  you  all,  old  and  young.  I  am  sure  our  prayers  are  not 
wanting." 

When  the  distance,  to  which  some  of  us  were  remove^d 
from  him  was  complained  of.  he  wrote  as  follows- 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS.  275 

*'I  am  sure  I  regret  as  much  as  you  can  do,  the  distance 
at  which  we  are  placed;  yet  ye  must  not  let  this  considera- 
tion have  undue  weight.  1  do  love  to  be  with  my  children, 
and  to  have  them  about  me;  but  every  one  has  his  place, 
and  ought  to  have;  and  all  our  feelings  must  be  submitted 
to  the  will  of  God." 

"I  endeavor  to  consider  the  case  of  those,  whose  children 
are  missionaries  in  distant  lands;  nay,  of  those  whose  children, 
from  worldly  motives,  are  far  removed  from  them.  Each 
seem  to  think,  that  if  their  beloved  relatives  are  doing  well, 
though  far  ofl",  all  is  well.  We  must  be  the  salt  and  light  of 
the  world,  and  be  scattered  for  that  purpose.  Let  us  then 
submit  to  God,  and  give  the  more  diligence  that  we  may 
meet  in  heaven  with  exceeding  joy.  St.  Paul  greatly  desired 
to  see  Timothy,  being  mindful  of  his  tears^  that  he  might  he 
filled  with  joy:  yet,  at  the  call  of  duty,  they  must  separate. 
The  elders  of  Ephesus  sorrowed  most  of  all  that  they  must  see 
his  face  no  more:  yet,  they  must  part;  and,  no  doubt,  after  a 
time,  they  had  a  blessed  meeting,  when  their  tears  were 
turned  into  jay.'''' 

In  these  extracts  he  speaks  for  himself:  in  the  following 
another  speaks  of  him. 

"June  12,  1809.  Yesterday  your  dear  father  preached 
two  capital  sermons  on  Psalm  cxix,  .32,  and  Mark  x,  1,3,  14; 
the  last  of  which  was  on  the  occasion  of  T.  H.  having  his 
two  youngest  children  baptized.  I  think  I  hardly  ever 
heard  him  so  eloquent  and  pathetic.  Among  other  things, 
he  mentioned  his  own  children  and  grand-children,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  in  such  a  manner  as  brought,  1  believe, 
tears  into  the  eyes  of  several  others  The  picture  he  dre^r 
of  Christ,  'hfting  up  his  holy  hands,  and  blessing  the  young 
children,'  would  really  have  been  a  fine  subject  for  a 
painter." 

To  his  friend  in  Northumberland  he  again  wrote  Novem- 
ber 20,  1808. 

"Dear  Mrs.  R ,  If  1  had  not  a  rnost  clear  and  full  ex- 
cuse, my  conduct  in  not  writing  to  you  would  be  exceed- 
ingly blamable:  but  I  am  so  engaged  with  my  publications,^ 
with  letters  of  business  thus  rendered  unavoidable,  with  in- 
structing missionaries  placed  under  my  care,  and  with  my 
ministerial  employments;  that  I  am  compelled  to  decline  all 
correspondence  which  is  not  absolutely  necessary.  It  must 
I  also  be  remembered  that  I  am  growing  old,  (almost  sixty- 
tivo,)  and  never  was  very  healthy:  and  I   can  assure  you 


276  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XlW 

that  I  am  weary  every  night  at  bed-time,  as  much  as  any 
poor  laborer.  Yet,  bless  God,  my  health  is  not  much  worse 
than  when  you  were  with  me,  bating  infirmities  of  old  age: 
and  I  go  on  preaching  as  often,  as  long,  and  as  loud,  perhaps, 
as  formerly,  and  with  great  encouragement  in  this  obscure 
place. 

"I  wish  I  w^as  like  St.  Paul  who  could  s^y^  always  in  every 
prayer  of  mine  for  you  all^  making  request  with  joy:  but  I 
hope  1  do  not  quite  forget  you  and  your's.  1  feel  gratified 
by  your  letter;  it  calls  to  my  mind,  what  always  refreshes 
it,  the  scenes  which  took  place  when  you  were  with  us:  and 
I  hope  and  trust  that  he  who,  (as  I  then  most  confidently  be- 
lieved, and  still  do,)  began  a  good  work  in  you^will  perform  it 
till  the  day  of  Christ.  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  that  any  of 
your  children  are  walking  in  the  Lord's  ways:  and  I  would 
encourage  your  hope  of  the  others.  Only  give  them  good 
instructions;  exercise  parental  authority  with  firmness,  as 
well  as  kindness,  by  reproofs  and  corrections  when  neces- 
sary, &ic.;  set  before  them  sedulously  an  edifying  example; 
and  pray  for  them  continually  and  fervently:  then  wait,  and 
hope,  and  acquiesce  in  the  will  of  God;  and  even  those  who 
now  seem  less  promising  will  perhaps  become  your  comfort. 
What  you  mention  of  your  sister  is  also  very  pleasant  to 
me;  and,  were  it  practicable,  I  should  be  glad  to  see  and 
converse  with  you  both,  but  I  suppose  we  shall  not  meet, 
till  we  meet,  as  I  hope,  in  heaven. 

"1  would  not,  however,  discourage  your  writing.  I  am 
drawing  near  the  close  of  my  work,  on  which  I  have  spent 
ten  years;  and  after  that,  I  may  be  more  at  liberty  to  an- 
swer your  letters.  At  present,  I  must  conclude.  Mrs.  S. 
and  my  daughter  are  well,  (or  as  well  as  usual,)  and  unite 
in  respects  and  good  wishes.  May  the  Almighty  God,  the 
God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  JesusXhrist,  shower  down  all 
blessings,  especially  spiritual  blessings,  abundantly,  on  you, 
your  husband,  your  children,  your  brother,  &c.:  this  is  the 
sincere  prayer  of  your  faithful  friend  and  servant  in 
Christ,  Thomas  Scott." 

In  October  1 809,  my  father  lost  his  esteemed  friend  and 
patron,  Mr.  Barber.  I  have  great  pleasure  in  being  allow- 
ed to  insert  his  letter  to  Mrs.  Barber  on  this  occasion,  both 
for  its  own  excellence,  from  the  regard  justly  due  to  the 
family,  and  because  of  the  happy  impression  which  it  ap- 
pears to  have  made  on  the  minds  of  those  immediately  con- 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS.  271f 

cerned  in  it.  The  reader,  I  persuade  myself,  would  wish 
to  see  it  entire,  though  it  may  repeat  some  thoughts  con- 
tained in  a  letter  recently  inserted. 

'•October  8,  1809.     My  dear  madam,  The   event  made 

known  to  me   hy  Mr.   R 's  letter,  though  melancholy, 

was  by  no  means  unexpected.  In  general,  I  am  reluctant  to 
intrude  on  mourners  during  the  first  paroxysms  of  grief: 
but  I  feel  such  a  special  interest  in  you,  and  all  your  con- 
cerns, that  I  cannot  delay  to  express  how  sincerely  I  sym- 
pathize with  you.  1  know  you  must  grieve,  both  for  your 
own  heavy  loss,  and  for  that  of  your  dear  children,  and  of 
many  others.  I  would  only  wish  to  drop  a  hint  or  two  to- 
wards alleviating  and  regulating  your  sorrows,  that  you  may 
not  grieve^  as  one  without  Iwpe^  for  him  who,  I  trust,  sleeps  in 
Jesus. — While  the  excellency  of  the  husband  and  father,  of 
whom  you  and  your  children  have  been  bereaved,  enhances 
the  greatness  of  your  loss,  it  infuses  the  sweetest  ingredi- 
ents into  the  bitter  cup.  You  have  no  call  to  lamept,  as 
David  over  wicked  Absalom,  and  many  a  parent,  or  wife, 
or  child,  over  one,  concerning  whom  there  is  no  hope^  or 
scarcely  any,  as  to  the  infinite  concerns  of  eternity.  You 
have  ground  for  rejoicing  amidst  your  tears:  your  loss  is 
the  immense  gain  of  him,  whom  you  most  love:  and  surely, 
would  a  wish  or  prayer  do  it,  you  would  not  bring  him  back 
into  this  sorrowful  world— especially  in  the  afflicted  state,  in 
which  he  had  long  continued. — You  will  meet  again,  to  part 
no  more:  and  many  blessings  are  in  store  foryouandyour's, 
in  answer  to  the  prayers  he  had  long  offered  for  you. 

"Your  dearest  earthly  friend  is  taken  away:  but  the  Lord 
liveth  from  everlasting  to  everlasting.  The  event,  which 
you  must  deplore,  (nature  dictates,  and  reason  and  revela- 
tion sanction  your  doing  so,)  is,  beyond  all  doubt,  the  result 
of  wise  love  to  you,  as  certainly  as  Joseph's  being  sold  into 
Egypt  was  the  result  of  wise  love  to  Jacob  and  his  family. 
What  I  do  thou  knowest  not  now;  but  thou  shalt  know  hereaf- 
ter.— I  am  of  opinion  that,  if  the  greatest  sufferer,  among 
those  who  have  been  eventually  saved,  could  have  known 
all  the  good  effects  of  his  sufferings,  to  himself  and  others, 
and  the  glory  redounding  to  God  by  means  of  them;  he 
would  have  willingly  and  thankfully  received  his  bitterest 
cup; — even  as  Jesus, /or  the  joy  thai  was  set  before  him,  en- 
dured the  cross.  lean  conceive  of Bartimeus,  in  heaven, 
blessing  God  for  his  blindness;  Martha  and  Mary,  for  the 
death  of  Lazarus;  Lazarus,  for  being  called  to  pass  through 
24 


275  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

death  twice:  and  why  should  you  not  have  to  bless  God  for 
this  present  painful  dispensation?  We  know  that  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God. — Your  good 
sense,  and  your  acquaintance  with  the  scriptures,  cannot  fail 
of  suggesting  to  you,  that  indulging  grief  however  admir- 
ed in  the  world,  is  in  itself,  as  wrong  as  indulging  anger,  or 
any  other  passion.  You  cannot  but  grieve  enough,  with- 
out  feeding  what  should  be  counteracted.  While  the  child 
livedo  I  fasted  and  wept^  &c.  2  Samuel  xii,  19 — 23. — The 
will  of  God  is  now  known:  though  painful,  you  must  feel  it 
right  to  submit,  and  to  say.  The  Lord  gave^  and  the  Lord  hath 
taken  away;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord:  and,  however 
great  the  loss,  the  all-sutlicient  God  can  make  it  up. 

^'I  am  far  from  regretting,  or  thinking  it  an  addition  to 
your  sorrow,  that  you  are  left  with  seven  children.  Under 
God,  they  will  be  an  alleviation  of  it.  Leave  thy  fatherless 
children  with  me  ^  I  will  preserve  them  alive;  and  let  thy  widows 
trust  in  me. — My  dear  friend,  a  most  important  duty,  now 
more  important  than  ever,  devolves  upon  you;  I  am  fully 
persuaded,  from  your  past  conduct,  a  duty  delightful  to  you 
in  itself)  Now,  indeed,  for  a  time  the  delight  will  be  min- 
gled with  tears;  but  the  importance  of  the  duty  is  propor- 
tionably  increased:  and  I  cannot  doubt,  that  the  sorrow  will 
decrease,  and  the  joy  increase,  as  you  proceed.  For  the 
sake  of  your  dear  children,  in  addition  to  higher  motives, 
watch  and  pray  against  excessive  sorrow,  and  against  any 
expressions  of  it  by  soHtude,  or  omitting  the  proper  care  of 
your  health  and  spirits;  which  might  unfit  you  for  your 
charge.  Think  thus:  'The  whole  devolves  now  on  me:  let 
me  not  yield  to  heartless  despondency.  The  souls  of  my 
children,  and  children's  children,  and  the  welfare  of  num- 
bers by  their  means,  are  now  at  stake,' 

"Perhaps  1  have  entered  too  much  into  detail:  but  I 
write  as  to  one  of  my  own  children;  and  you  will  excuse 
me.  I  trust  many  here  are  praying  for  you  and  your's.  I 
cannot  but  hope,  that  there  are  far  more  than  a  hundred 
souls,  perhaps  two  or  three  hundred,  that  will  bless  God 
for  ever,  that  the  living  of  Aston  ever  came  into  your  fami- 
ly.    1  hope   many  pray    heartily   to  God  for  support,  and 

comfort,  and  every  blessing  on  you  and  your's May 

the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  be  your  support  and 
comforter,  and  bless  you  aid  your  children! — Your's  sin- 
cerely, T.  Scott." 


1801—1813]  LETTERS.  279 

It  is  an  additional  delightful  consideration  to  me,  to  think 
how  much  the  good  anticipations  of  this  letter  have  beea 
already  realized. 

IV.  Miscellaneous- 

"January  11,  1807.  I  know  not  how  you  have  foun^  it, 
but  in  many  instances  I  have  observed,  that  things,  which 
at  the  moment  seemed  so  pertinent  and  conclusive,  that 
they  ought  to  be  said,  have  afterwards  appeared  to  me  far 
too  sharp,  and  had  better  have  been  withheld.  I  now 
never  write  on  any  thing  which  involves  dispute,  (if  I  can 
help  it,)  without  laying  the  letter  by  a  day  or  two,  and  then 
revising  it." 

"April  14,  1811.     I  like  much  Mr. 


but  nothing  of  defect  is  admitted:  it  is  too  unqual- 
ified praise:  it  tends  to  make  me  despond;  and  it  led  me  to 
say.  Some  persons  will  ere  long  tell  lies  about  me  also.  I 
admire  Mr.  Milner's  plan  about  Mr.  Howard:  state  debtor 
and  creditor.  If  we  have  any  thing  good  about  us,  there 
is  a  set  oif;  and  it  is  best  that  it  should  be  in  some  measure 
stated." 

I  must  confess,  that  the  rule  laid  down,  in  the  closing  sen- 
tence, unless  its  restriction  be  pretty  strongly  taken,  ap- 
pears to  me,  to  impose  rather  an  awkward  task  on  the 
preacher  of  a  funeral  sermon.  Togo  much  beyond  a  gen- 
eral acknowledgment  of  the  imperfection  incident  to  human 
nature,  except  in  some  very  particular  instances,  would 
seem  to  be  ungracious  and  unseasonable  on  such  an  occa- 
sion: and  1  have  sometimes  doubted  whether  scriptural 
usage  requires  more.  In  giving  the  history^  in  writing  the 
lives  of  good  men,  scripture  certainly  relates  the  faulty  as 
well  as  the  praise  worthy  parts  of  their  conduct.  Yet,  in 
summing  up  the  characters  of  upright  men,  even  such  as 
had  been  chargeable  with  considerable  evils,  it  is  remarka- 
ble how  much  it  assumes  the  language  of  general  approba- 
tion and  praise.  And  it  may  be  thought,  perhaps,  that  this 
comes  nearer  to  the  case  of  a  funeral  sermon,  in  all  such 
instances  as  are  proper  for  sermons  of  that  kind. 

The  following  brief  observations  on  books  may  not  be 
without  their  use. 

"December  2,  1804.  By  the  way,  Robertson's  Thesau- 
rus is  a  most  valuable  repository  of  critical  and  theological 
matter,  to  the  patient  inquirer;  bringing  together,  in  one 
view,  every  passage  where  the  word  in  questioa  is  used,  and 
quoting  the  best  criticisms  upoa  it." 


280  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV\ 

''April  7, 1 808.  I  have  got  Qiraves's  Lectures  on  the  Pen- 
tateuch, and,  as  far  as  I  have  read,  am  much  pleased.  I 
find  original  remarks;  and  this  is  what  I  want.  1  am  sorry 
to  perceive  him  so  unacquainted  with  evangelical  truth. — 
Macknight  on  the  Epistles  is  not  of  great  use.  He  is  a  ver- 
bose and  round-about  writer.  I  find  in  him  also  things  orig- 
inal: that  is,  he  seems  to  have  known  all  that  the  apostle, 
and  his  friends,  and  his  enemies,  said  and  did;  when  there  is 
not  a  word  on  record.  He  is  wise  above  zvhat  is  written^  in 
the  strangest  and  most  positive  manner  I  have  ever  seen; 
and  on  these  airy  dreams  builds  systematical  expositions 
quite  new  to   me." 

In  a  letter  of  June  3,  1807,  authorizing  me  to  subscribe 
for  him  towards  defraying  the  expenceofMr.  VVilberforce's 
election,  in  the  great  contest  for  Yorkshire,  though  he  had 
for  some  time  demurred  whether,  in  the  peculiar  situation 
in  which  he  stood,  it  would  be  proper  for  him  to  do  it,) 
he  says:  "In  every  company,  I  maintain  the  propriety  of 
Mr.  W."'s  standing  the  contest,  and  of  others  coming  forward 
to  defray  the  expence.  If  this  be  not  done,  the  inde- 
pendence of  a  large  county  is,  by  the  very  circumstance  of 
its  largeness,  as  effectually  given  up,  as  that  of  a  rotten  bo^ 
rough.  But  the  cause  of  Mr.  W.  is  the  cause  of  justice,  hu- 
manit}^,  and  piety,  as  well  as  of  Britain.  I  feel  a  sort  of 
self-congratulation  at  present,  that,  above  twenty  years  ago, 

I  withstood,  with  all  my  energy,  Mr. 's  counsel,  who 

advised  Mr.  W.  to  retire  from  public  life.  Had  that  coun- 
sel been  followed,  the  slave-trade  might  have  been  contin- 
ued to  future  generations." 

January  20,  1812,  he  thus  speaks  of  his  own  memoir  of 
himself.  "I  am  now,  as  able,  employed  in  drawing  up  a 
brief  account  of  the  former  years  of  my  life,  which,  for 
the  time,  a  good  deal  alfects  me  with  the  sense  of  the 
Lord's  goodness,  in  leading  me  when  blind^  and  most  wicked, 
iuj  a  way  that!  knew  not.  I  have  written  about  two  sheets, 
and  am  come  to  the  eve  of  my  ordination:  after  which  I 
shall  be  very  brief  I  shall  leave  it  with  my  survivors, 
to  be  employed  as  they  see  good," 


J8iS— 1821.]     DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,  &c.  281 


CHAPTER  XV. 

FROM     THE     FINAL     DISPOSAL    OF   HIS    COMMENTARY   TO    HIS    LAST 
ILLNESS. 

When  ray  father  c6ntracted  with  the  present  proprietors  of 
his  Commentary,  to  sell  them  all  the  remaining  copies,  and 
to  convey  to  them  the  copy-right  of  the  work,  it  was  in 
the  full  expectation  that  he  should  be  enabled  to  pay  off 
the  debts  which  he  had  incurred,  and  to  disencumber  him 
self  of  the  embarrassments,  under  which  he  had  so  long 
labored,  on  account  of  his  publications.  Thus  he  express 
ed  himself  in  announcing  the  event:  "I  have  been  strug- 
gUng  hard  for  many  years,  and  have  now  brought  matters 
to  that  state,  that  I  can  dispose  of  the  whole.  What  I  am 
to  receive,  with  what  my  bookseller  will  owe  me,  will 
nearly  cover  all  my  debts:  and  it  is  high  time,  that,  on  th© 
one  hand,  my  borrowed  money  should  be  paid  off,  and,  on 
the  other,  that  I  should  disembarrass  myself  of  worldly 
cares,  and  set  my  house  in  order,  that  I  may  be  ready 
when  my  summons  comes."  And,  though  some  delays  and 
disappointments  took  place,  he  continued  to  entertain  this 
expectation,  and  even  to  hope  that  he  should  be  found  pos- 
sessed of  some  moderate  portion  of  property,  till  the  latter 
end  of  the  year  1813.  But,  at  that  period,  on  winding  up 
his  account  with  his  bookseller  and  others,  he  found,  to  his 
utter  astonishment,  and  with  a  greater  degree  of  disquiet- 
ude, than  he  had,  perhaps,  ever  before  felt  on  such  a  sub- 
ject, that  he  was  still  deficient  more  than  £1200  which  he 
had  little  else  to  defray,  than  printed  paper,  which  appear- 
ed to  be  almost  unsaleable.  This  was  principally  owing  to 
great  quantities  of  his  books,  especially  the  works  in  five 
volumes,  being  now  discovered  in  the  printer's  warehouses, 
and  brought  to  account,  which  were  before  considered  as 
sold.  He  mentions  in  a  letter  that  eight  hundred  and  six 
volumes  were  thus  brought  forward  in  one  article.  This 
was  not  only  a  grievous  disappointRient,  as  presenting  him 
with  apparently  useless  paper,  instead  of  ready  money,  but 
as  it,  in  great  measure,  frustrated  his  hopes  for  the  future. 
He  had  calculated  that  his  minor  works  were  selling  to  the 
amount  of  £250  or  £300  annually;  but  it  now  appeared 
that  the  sale  was  not  exceeding  £lO0  a  year;  which  made 
a  material  difference  in  the  prospect  bel'ore  him. 
*24 


iB^Z  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE      [Chap.  X¥. 

This  discovery  exceedingly  disconcerted  and  distressed 
him,  especially  as  he  charged  himself  with  actual,  though 
unconscious  injustice,  in  disposing,  in  various  ways,  on  the 
ground  of  the  erroneous  calculation  of  his  property,  of 
sums,  which  now  turned  out  not  to  be  his  own:  and,  amidst 
increasing  infirmities  and  disabilities,  he  began  to  forebode 
dying  insolvent,  and  thus,  perhaps,  leaving  a  stigma  wpoa' 
his  character  and  profession. 

Under  these  painful  impressions  he  wrote  to  the  different 
branches  of  his  family  in  November  1813.  "I  sit, down,  to 
write  to  you  on  a  painful  subject,  and,  perhaps,  with  a 
heavier  heart  than  1  ever  did  before."  "To  my  utter 
astonishment  and   overwhelming  almost,  I  lind  that  1  am 

above   £350  minus  with ,"  instead   of   having  some 

hundred  pounds  to  receive!  "Under  wrong  ideas  of  being 
able  to  afford  it,  I  have  bee'n  disposing  of  money,  which 
now,  to  my  great  distress,  1  find  was  not  my  own."  "But 
the  most  distressing  fact  is  this,  that  scarcely  any  thing  of 
my  printed  paper  sells;  and,  as  my  whole  property,  except 
my  furniture,  consists  of  it,  1  find  myself  precluded  from 
paying  my  debts,  unless  some  other  methods  can  be  adopt- 
ed."— And  again,  "My  state  of  health  also,  and  the  improb- 
ability of  my  teaching  the  missionaries  much  longer,  or  do- 
ing without  a  curate,  compared  with  the  scantiness  of  my 
income,  apart  from  my  debts,  is  trying  to  faith  and  patience; 
especially  as,  I  believe,  my  friends  in  general  think  me  well 
provided  for,  and  therefore  give  me  no  help."  "Except  I 
can  look  to  God,  my  prospect  is  dreary:  my  infirm  health 
also  concurs  in  depressing  my  spirits. — But,  though  some- 
times disheartened,  I  rise  again  above  it." 

It  maybe  observed  that  the  letters,  from  which  these 
extracts  are  taken,  were  written  only  two  days  previously 
to  the  very  striking  one,  formerly  given,  on  the  instruction 
of  the  missionaries.  They  sufficiently  explain  the  "strong 
reason"  he  had  "for  not  at  present  giving  up  that  service, 
if  he  could  help  it:"  though,  it  will  be  remembered,  he 
udds,  "If  however  a  permanent  seminary  can  be  founded,  I 
shall  not  sutler  any  personal  concern  of  mine  to  interfere, 
and,  indeed,  shall  greatly  rejoice  in  it." 

I  have  put  the  reader  in  possession  of  this  whole  case, 
though  it  is  rather  painful  to  detail  it,  because,  taken  in 
connexion  with  its  issue,  I  have  thought  it  due  to  those, 
who  would  endeavor  to  act  upon  my  father's  disinterested 
«nd  devoted  principles,  to  do  so:  due  also  to  the  religions 


i  8 13— 1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  2^S 

public,  and  to  several  zealous,  though  some  of  them  un- 
known friends,  who  took  the  most  Hvely  interest  in  his  cir- 
cumstances, as  soon  as  they  became  acquainted  with  them: 
and  due,  I  must  add,  to  the  estimation  in  which,  far  beyond 
his  own  apprehensions,  he  appeared  to  be  held,  ''for  his 
work's  sake,"  and  for  the  manner  in  which  he  had  unre- 
seiivedly  given  himself  to  it. 

In  these  letters  my  father  had  observed,  that  he  thought 
he  had  "some  claim  upon  the  religious  public;"  and  the 
way  in  which  he  proposed  to  avail  himself  of  it  was,  mere- 
ly soliciting  his  friends,  by  a  private  circular,  to  find  him 
purchasers  for  his  "Theological  Works,"  which  he  was 
wilhng,  in  this  way,  to  dispose-  of  at  a  reduced  price. 
"Could  I  turn  three  or  four  h\indred  copies  of  the  Works 
into  money,"  he  says,  "it  would  set  me  at  liberty."  This 
was  accordingly  the  plan  adopted.  The  printing  of  this 
collection  of  his  works,  he  considered  as  "the  most  im- 
prudent part  of  his  whole  concern  in  that  Une,"  and  as  hav- 
ing "involved  him  almost  inextricably:"  but  it  now  proved 
the  means  of  relieving  him  eifectually,  and  beyond  his  mosi 
sanguine  expectations. 

The  first  person  to  whom  his  difficulties,  and  his  propos* 
ed  means  of  extricating  himself  were  made  known,  was 
the  Rev.  Chnrles  Simeon,  of  King's  College,  Cambridge: 
and  such  were  the  prompt  and  vigorous  exertions  of  that 
zealous  friend,  and  excellent  man,  that,  had  they  been  im- 
mediately known  to  my  father,  they  might  probably  have 
prevented  his  issuing  his  circulars  in  any  other  quarter. 
On  Monday,  December  20,  at  a  time  when  his  spirits  were 
sunk  unusually  low,  he  received  from  Mr.  S.  a  letter,  of 
which  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  communicating  such  part 
as  is  in  my  possession. 

"My  dear  friend.  Never  was  a  more  delightful  office  com-  ■ 
milted  to  rac,  than  that  which  I  have  to  execute  at  this 
time.  Your  visit  to  Cambridge  was  a  blessing  to  many,  who 
are  anxious  to  testify  towards  you  their  respect  and  love, 
and  who  earnestly  request  your  acceptance  of  a  i'ew  hun- 
dred pounds,  which  they  have  desired  me  to  remit  you 
in  their  name,  and  in  the  name  of  some  others,  who  have 
been  benefitted  by  your  writings.  The  amount  I  have  com- 
prehended in  a  bill,  &c.  &c.  Greatly  rejoicing  in  an  event 
so  expressive  of  their  love  to  Christ,  and  the  veneration 
they  feel  for  your  character,  I  am  most  affectionately  yours, 

C    SlMEOK>" 


204  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE  [Chap.  XV. 

The  remittance  comprehended  "£590,  a  present,  besides 
a  considerable  sum  for  books!" 

Another  friend,  who  was  on  the  spot  at  the  time,  says, 
"The  interest  taken  in  his  concerns  by  our  Cambridge 
friends,  and  the  deUcacy  and  affection  with  which  the  whole 
business  was  conducted,  will  never  be  forgotten  by  me." 

B«t  it  was  not  only  at  Cambridge  that  the  intimation, 
that  my  father  stood  in  need  of  some  assistance,  was  met  by 
so  prompt  a  disposition  to  afford  it:  the  same  was  the  case 
in  various  other  places,  in  some  of  which  he  was  personally 
unknown.  Bristol,  York,  and  Dublin,  deserve  particularly 
to  be  specified:  and  in  the  first  of  these  cities  it  is  no  more 
than  is  due  to  mention  the  name  of  Isaac  Cooke,  Esq.  The 
munificent  friend  of  Mr.  Cecil  shewed  himself  the  no  less 
munificent  friend  of  Mr.  Scott,  when  the  occasion  called  for 
it,  though  the  latter  had  but  the  slightest  acquaintance  with 
him. 

But  what  was  done  on  this  occasion,  and  in  what  manner 
it  was  received,  will  be  best  learned  from  a  few  extracts 
of  my  father's  letters,  written  at  the  time. 

To  myself  he  wrote,  Dec.  22,  1813:  "You  will  doubtless 
fee  astonished    at  the  contents   of  this  letter.     The  letter 

which  I   wrote  to  Mr ,  for  Mr.  Simeon  to  see,  from 

some  circumstances  seemed  likely  to  produce  me  a  few  sub- 
scribers; and  I  expected  little  more Had  I  received 

Mr.  S.'s  letter  before  I  began  issuing  my  circulars,  I  should 
have  paused;  but  many  were  previously  sent.     I   had  only 

one   hundred  printed I  w^as  low  last  week;  but  not  so 

much  about  my  affairs,  as  that  I  had  written  so  fully  to , 

who,  I  thought,  would  much  censure  me;  and,  because  I 
could  not,  on  a  review  of  many  past  years,  but  deeply  con- 
demn many  things  in  myself  And,  when  I  received  Mr. 
Simeon's  letter,  and  the  bill  for  so  large  a  sum,  I  was  at  first 
80  overwhelmed  with  shame  at  my  own  unbelief  and  dis- 
trust, that  1  felt  lower  than  ever.  But  I  hope  the  Lord's 
goodness,  and  the  kindp.ess  of  unexpected  friends,  will 
shame  us  both  and  all^  out  of  distrust  and  unbelief  I  have 
not  been  Hoo  disinterested,'  &-c. 

To  his  second  son,  January  17,  1814:  "I  have  received 
in  all  from  different  quarters,  and  from  those  of  whom  I  had 

never  heard  the  name quite   enough  to    pay  all  my 

debts:  and,  as  1  have  reason  to  think,  that  most,  if  not  all,  the 
copies  of  the  works  will  be  disposed  of,  1  now  have  all  and 
abound;  except  that  I  want  more  thankfulness  to  God  and 


1813—1821.]         TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  286 

man.     I  have  even  declined  some  offers  made  me I 

hope  mine  will  be  considered  as  an  adjudged  case,  to  en- 
courage faith  in  God's  providence,  in  those  who  are  em- 
ployed in  his  work." 

To  myself,  again,  February  14,  1814:  "I  really  expected, 
at  first,  little  more  than  to  dispose  of  two  or  three  hundred 
copies  of  the  works,  and  I  never  intimated  a  desire  of  fur- 
ther help  than  in  that  way.  You  have  heard  what  I  re- 
ceived from  Mr.  S Since  then,  money  has  been  sent 

me,  with  the  most  cordial,  respectful  letters,  from  per- 
sons of  whom  I  never  heard:  among  the  rest,  £20  from  a 
quaker.  Offers  were  made  of  raising  more,  if  I  desired  it; 
which  I  declined.  Probably  all  the  copies  of  the  works  will 
be  sold.  I  do  not  now  owe  any  thing  which  I  cannot  pay  on 
demand — what  I  never  could  say  since  you  were  born!  and 
1  have  something  in  hand;  and  shall  receive  more,  be- 
sides the  works.  So  you  see  that,  if  I  have  too  little  re- 
garded such  matters  while  my  need  was  not  urgent,  when  it 
is,  how  easily  the  Lord  can  do  more  for  me,  than  all  my 
plans  could  have  done  in  a  course  of  years;  and  in  a  man- 
ner which  tends  to  make  my  publicatlgns  more  known  and 
circulated;  and,  I  verily  believe,  without  in  any  degree  de- 
ducting from  my  character.  Oh  that  this  may  make  me 
ashamed  of  all  my  distrust  and  dejection!  and  that  it  may 
encourage  you,  and  many  others,  to  go  on  in  the  work  of  the 
Lord,  without  anxiety  on  this  ground!  Serve  him  by  the  day, 
and  trust  him  by  the  day:  never  flinch  a  service  because 
nothing  is  paid  for  it:  and  when  you  want  it  in  reality,  you 
oryour's,  he  will  pay  it.  David  Brown  did  much  gratis  in 
India:  the  East  India  Company  raised  a  monument  for  the 
old  bachelor  Swartz:  but  they  made  provision  for  Mr.  B.'s 
large  family!    ... 

"Among  other  things,  I  received  a  most  friendly  letter 
from  Mr.  Richardson,  inquiring  into  my  circumstances,  of 
which  friends  at  York  had  received  some  report.  I  stated, . 
that  /  had  all  and  abounded,  and  did  not  wish  to  trouble  my 
friends  further,  except  as  subscribers  to  the  works.  But  I, 
next  letter,  received  £l  15  as  a  present! — I  have  had  £350 
from  Bristol,  where  I  thought  my  rudeness  had  given 
oifence;  besides  orders  for  a  hundred  copies  of  the  works!" 

Another  letter  to  my  brother,  ten  days  afterwards,  states 
that  Mr.  Cooke  had  remitted  £300  more  from  Bristol!  and 
my  father  adds  in  a  postscript. 

"February  25,  1814.  I  have  received  at  least  £2000  as 
presents  in  little  more  than  two  mouths,  besides  the  sale  of 


286  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  X^f. 

books!!  You  see  how  easily  God  can  provide.  Trust  in  the 
Lord^  and  do  good;  dwell  in  the  land^  and  verily  thou  shalt 
be  fed.  You  cannot  do  a  better  service  to  the  world,  than 
by  bequeathing-  to  it  a  well-educated  family.  Let  this  be  your 
care,  the  rest  will  be  the  Lord's." 

The  letter,  above  referred  to,  to  the  late  Mr.  Richardson 
is  now  before  me.  It  adds  nothing,  in  point  of  information, 
to  the  facts  already  stated:  yet  it  will  furnish  an  extract  or 
two,  which  will  not  be  uninteresting.  It  is  dated  January 
14,  1814,  and  begins  as  follows: — "Your  very  friendly  and 
pleasing  letter  found  me  ill  in  bed,  of  a  fever,  occasioned,  I 
believe,  by  the  severity  of  the  weather.  It  has  confined 
me  a  week  to  my  room,  and  most  of  the  time  to  my  bedf 
but  is,  through  the  mercy  of  our  God,  now  gone  off;  though 
it  leaves  me  extremely  weak.  This  has  no  connection  with 
my  local  malady,  which  does  not,  at  present,  affect  my  gen- 
eral health,  nor  greatly  interrupt  my  labors  at  home,  though 
it  makes  them  much  more  uneasy  and  wearying.  It  seems 
at  a  stand:  but  cure  must  not  be  expected. ... 

"It  is  not  agreeable  to  our  proud  hearts  to  become,  in 
any  way  or  manner,  beggars:  but  my  relief  has  been  sent 
on  such  a  general  hint,  and  with  such  soothing  tokens  of 
respect  and  affection,  as  more  than  compensate  all:  and  I 
only  want,  to  crown  the  whole,  a  heart  deeply  and  humbly 
thankful  to  God,  and  to  those  into  whose  hearts  he  has  put 
it  thus  to  help  me 

"Next  month  I  enter  my  sixty-eighth  year:  but  I  have 
always  had  a  bad  constitution,  and  seldom  a  year  without 
fevers,  (often  dangerous;)  besides  asthma  and  other  com- 
plaints: so  that  I  am  a  wonder  to  myself — Suffering  and 
weariness  must  be  my  portion  here:  but  I  hope  that  my 
strength  will  be  equal  to  my  day,  my  consolation  to  my 
tribulation.  We  shall  not  meet  on  earth:  but  it  will  not  be 
long,  I  trust,  before  we  meet  in  heaven;  and  then,  face  to 
face,  and  not  by  pen  and  ink,  I  will  speak  with  thee.*  In  the 
mean  time,  let  us  pray  for  each  other;  let  us  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  my  new  year's  text,  Eccles.  ix,  10,  Whatsoever  thy 
hand,  <^c  ;  and  let  us  bless  God,  that  we  leave  the  state  of 
religion  in  Britain,  and  on  earth,  more  promising  than  we 
found  it.  Praying  that  this  dawn  may  shine  more  and  more 
until  the  glorious  day  of  the  millennium,  I  am  your  faithful 
friend  and  brother,  Thos.  Scott." 

•  Mr.  Richardson  died  ene  month  after  my  father. 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST    ILLNESS.  287 

We  now  proceed  to  deta'Jl  the  history  of  the  remaining 
years  of  my  father^s  labors.  They  will  be  found,  perhaps, 
more  bare  of  incident  than  those  which  preceded  them. 
He  was  during  the  whole  term  a  prisoner  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood  of  his  home,  and  almost  entirely  within  his 
own  village.  The  main  point,  in  addition  to  giving  an  ac- 
count of  the  productions  of  his  pen,  will  be  to  display  the 
temper  of  his  mind,  and  the  spirit  by  which  he  was  actuated; 
which  acquire  an  increasing  interest  as  we  approach  his 
latter  end,  and  see  them  still  sustained,  or  rather  raised  yet 
higher,  amidst  daily  accumulating  intirmities. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  year  1814,  we  find  him  turning 
his  attention,  and  with  all  his  wonted  vigor,  to  a  subject 
which  was,  in  a  great  measure,  new  to  him,  the  question  be- 
tween Jews  and  Christians.  This  was  in  consequence,  as  he 
tells  us  in  the  preface  to  the  work  which  he  afterwards  pub- 
lished upon  it,  of  a  copy  of  Rabbi  CrooU's  "Restoration  of 
Israel,"  being  forwarded  to  him  by  the  Committee  of  the 
Society  for  promoting  Christianity  among  the  Jews,  "with 
a  request  that  he  would  answer  it."  He  understood  "the 
same  to  have  J^een  done  to  a  few  other  persons,"  and,  "being 
fully  engaged  at  the  time,"  he,  after  looking  slightly  into  the 
book,  laid  it  aside,  feeling  "not  at  all  inclined  to  undertake 
the  service."  "But  being  somewhat  less  engaged  at  the 
beginning  of  the  following  year,"  (1814)  he  again  took  up 
the  copy  and  read  it  more  attentively;  purposing,  if  not  too 
late,  to  make  some  short  remarks  on  particular  passages, 
and  communicate  them  to  any  one,  who,  he  should  learn, 
was  preparmg  an  answer.  In  attempting  this,  however,  the 
whole  concern  appeared  to  him  in  a  new  light;  and  he  per- 
ceived, that,  by  this  work  an  opening  was  given  to  the  zeal- 
ous friends  of  Christianity,  and  cordial  friends  of  the  Jews,  to 
bring  the  whole  subject  m  controversy,  between  Christians 
and  Jews,  before  the  public  and  the  nation  of  Israel.  The 
consequence  was,  the  production,  within  the  year,  of  an  octa- 
vo volume,  containing  CrooU's  work,  and  an  answer  to  it,  in 
which  all  the  principal  points  at  issue  are  discussed. 

Some  observations  relative  to  this  work  may  deserve  to 
be  extracted  from  his  correspondence  while  employed  upon 
it. 

"February  14,  1814.  I  am  deeply  engaged  in  the  con- 
troversy between  Jews  and  Christians,  and  in  answering  a 
book  by  R.  Crooll,  Hebrew  teacher  at^  Cambridge.  It  k 
my  object  to  draw  forth  the  Jews  from  their  lurking  hole* 


2B3^  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE  [Chap.  XY. 

to  fair  argument:  and  I  mear>  to  discuss  every  important^ 
question  concerning"  the  Messiah  of  the  Old  Testament,  on 
the  ground  of  the  Old  Testament  only.  I  think  I  shall  bring 
forth  much  original  matter  on  many  topics.  I  shall  at  least 
furnish  materials  to  future  workmen — 1  have  in  contempla- 
tion also  to  condense  the  remarks  on  the  "Refutation  of 
Calvinism"  into  one  volume,  stating  the  argument  briefly, 
without  extraneous  matter." 

*  This  was  at  a  time  when  he  had  been  confined  "five 
Sundays  from  church,  three  by  sickness,  and  twp  by  the 
weather."  "Nothing  like  this  winter,"  he  remarks,  has 
occurred  for  almost  fifty  years." 

April  7,  he  writes,  "J  think  I  know  the  general  plan 
Or  idea  of  Limborch,  respecting  the  Jews — that  the  more 
offensive  peculiarities  of  Christianity  are  to  be  kept  out  of 
sight;  and  the  grand  question,  of  Jesus  being  the  Messiah, 
.first  considered.  I  thought  somewhat  in  the  same  way 
once:  but  the  peculiarities  of  Christianity  are  evidently  the 
grand  objections  of  modern  Jews.  Their  Socinianism^  so  to 
speak,  is  prominent  in  all  their  objections;  and  it  is  vain  to 
discuss  previous  questions:  the  whole  must  be  proved  from 
the  Old  Testament,  or  nothing  is  done.  But  they  are  so  un- 
informed, that  every  argument  or  statement  will  be  new  to 
them,  if  it  be  possible  to  get  them  to  read,  and  consider, 
and  try  to  answer.  This  I  am  attempting,  with  all  the  gen- 
tleness and  benevolence  I  can:  and  I  get  new  light  myself, 
on  every  topic." 

"June  27,  1814.  I  have  completed,  nearly  ready  for  the 
press,  my  book  respecting  the  Jews.  It  must  be  original  to 
many  readers,  for  a  great  part  of  it  is  so  to  me:  and  1  have, 
in  many  things,  almost  new  vievv^  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Old 
Testament  in  these  respects. — The  contrast  between  the 
triumphs  of  Jesus,  and  those  of  Mohammed,  is,  in  my  own 
view  very  striking. — I  should  hope  the  whole  would  be 
rather  conciliatory  to  the  Jews:  as  it  ascribes  to  them  a 
precedency  of  honor  and  love,  at  their  restoration,  beyond 
what  has  been  hitherto  brought  forward." 

Though,  however,  this  work,  certainly  one  of  no  little 
labor  and  thought,  was  thus  nearly  completed  by  the  middle 
of  the  year  in  which  it  was  begun,  the  preface  is  not  dated 
till  October;  and,  owing  to  delays  after  the  manuscript  had 
left  the  authors  hand,  it  was  not  published  till  near  Mid- 
summer in  the  ensuing  year. 


1813—1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  28<i 

At  this  period  I  find  the  following  brief  notice  of  his  state 
in  a  letter  from  his  daughter,  then  settled  in  his  immediate 
neighborhood. 

"June  o,  1814.  It  is  indeed  a  source  of  unspeakable 
satisfaction  to  us,  that  we  are  situated  so  near  my  dear 
father,  and  can  have  so  frequently  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
and  hearing  him.  May  we  but  derive  all  the  advantage 
which  his  instructions  and  example  are  so  calculated  to 
afford!  The  calmness  and  cheerfulness,  with  which  he  sup- 
ports the  almost  constant  pain  and  weariness  he  suffers,  are 
truly  edifying;  and  the  vigor  and  activity  of  his  mind  render 
his  conversation  as  interesting  as  ever  it  was." 

This  year  was  marked  by  the  fall  of  Bonaparte,  and  the 
restoration  of  peace  with  France.  The  general  joy  and 
exultation  were,  however,  most  painfully  damped,  in  the 
breasts  of  all  the  zealous  friends  of  humanity  and  of  man- 
kind, by  that  clause  in  the  treaty  of  peace  which  sanctioned 
the  continuance,  or  rather  the  revival,  of  the  African  Slave 
Trade,  for  the  period  of  five  years;  at  the  same  time  that  it 
pronounced  it  a  traffic  "repugnant  to  the  principles  of 
natural  justice."  Along  with  others,  my  father,  for  a  time, 
felt  his  full  share  of  disappointment  and  sadness  on  the  oc- 
casion. This  continued  till  the  very  day  of  the  General 
Thanksgiving,  (July  7,)  when  it  found  a  degree  of  unexpect- 
ed relief  He  thus  describes  his  feelings  in  the  preface  to 
the  sermon  which  he  preached,  and  published  under  the 
title  of 'Light  Shining  out  of  Darkness:' "I  entered  on  the 
preparation  for  the  day  with  unusual  dejection,  as  conscious- 
ly unable  to  meet  the  case  with  adequate  encouragements 
to  others,  or  myself  to  emerge  out  of  most  disheartening 
regret:  so  that  I  looked  forward  to  the  service  with  very 
painful  anticipations.  But,  while  thus  meditating  on  the 
subject,  brighter  views  unexpectedly  arose  in  my  mind. 
These  views  I  endeavored  to  set  before  my  congregation, 
without  the  most  remote  idea  of  publishing  them:  yet,  on 
subsequent  reflection,  they  appeared  to  me,  and  some 
others,  so  new,  and  so  animating,  on  a  most  gloomy  topic, 
that  I  was  led  to  print  them." 

It  happened  that,  before  I  received  any  intelligence  of 
this  sermon,  I  had  the  opportunity  of  ascertaining,  and  com- 
municating to  my  father,  the  views  taken  of  the  same  subject 
by  the  late  excellent  Dr.  Buchanan.  He  too,  like  one  well 
practised  in  waiting  for  a  desired  object,  and  in  regarding 
apparent  disappointment  as  one  preparative  for  its  accom^ 
25 


290  "disposal  of  HIS  BIBLE  [Chap.  XV. 

plishment,  was  looking  for  "light  out  of  darkness;"  and  the 
sentiments  which  I  found  him  entertaining,  remarkably  cor- 
responded with  those  at  which  my  father  had  arrived. 
From  what  quarter  "light"  was  to  break  in  they  little  an- 
ticipated: and,  had  they  anticipated  it,  that  too  would  have 
been  a  source  of  further  alarm  and  distressing  feelings.  It 
was  only  through  the  return  of  the  despot,  who  had  so  long 
made  Europe  to  tremble,  and  by  means  of  the  fresh  nego- 
ciations  which  followed  his  final  expulsion,  that  "the  high 
contracting  powers,"  were  brought  "each  to  prohibit,  with- 
out restriction,  their  colonies  and  subjects  from  taking  anj 
part  whatever  in  this  traffic."  Would  to  God  that  the  time 
might  arrive,  when  the  proscription  thus  announced  shall 
actually  take  effect;  and  when  cupidity  on  the  one  hand, 
and  lukewarmness  on  the  other,  shall  no  longer  set  at  nought 
the  claims  of  humanity,  and  the  injunctions  of  our  holy  re- 
ligion; and  conspire  to  frustrate  the  enactments  of  legisla- 
tures, and  the  solemn  covenants  of  nations! 

At  this  period  I  visited  Aston,  and,  in  returning,  saw  the 
^ther  branches  of  the  family.  On  my  letter  to  my  father, 
after  my  arrival  at  home,  he  remarks,  "Your  letter  gave  me 
much  pleasure — which  I  do  not  very  generally  experience, 
for  want  of  a  right  state  of  heart.  Our  mercies  and  bless- 
ings, as  a  family,  and  as  individuals,  are  great  and  many: 
but  our  feelings  at  the  present,  either  of  pajn,  or  of  disap- 
pointment in  smaller  concerns,  too  often  render  us  forgetful 
of  them." 

It  is  natural  that  a  closing  chapter,  in  the  history  of  a  long 
life,  should  have  to  report  the  deaths  of  not  a  few  of  the 
friends  of  him  who  is  the  subject  of  it:  and,  alas!  events  of 
this  kind  will  be  found  pretty  thickly  interspersed  in  the 
period  we  are  considering. 

In  October  of  this  year  my  father  lost  his  youngest  sister, 
Mrs.  Burgess,  of  Leicester,  and  to  her  daughter,  (herself 
since  deceased,)  whom  he  did  not  consider  as  at  that  time 
living  under  the  power  of  religion,  he  wrote  in  the  following 
faithful  and  affectionate  manner,  when  she  announced  the 
event  to  him. 

"I  was  just  thinking  of  setting  apart  a  little  time  for  an- 
swering your  former  letter,  when  I  received  your  last,  stat- 
ing, what  indeed  I  had  expected  to  hear,  the  decease  of 
your  dear  mother.  Thus  the  younger  is  first  removed!  So 
uncertain  is  life,  and  so  it  pleases  God  to  derange  all  our 
calcalatious,   even  as  to  the  probability  of  its  contiquancel 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  291 

My  brother,  who  is  thirteen,  and  my  sister,  who  is  four  years 
older  than  I  am,  and  I  myself,  still  survive;  and  your  mother, 
who  was  nine  years  younger,  is  gone!  May  we  be  ready 
also,  for  at  what  time  the  hour  cometh  we  know  not,  and 
cannot  know. 

"I  was  glad  to  hear  from  Mr.  V that  he  visited  your 

mother  in  her  illness;  and  for  what  he  said  concerning  the 
state  of  her  mind.  As  for  me  I  could  only  pray  for  her; 
which  I  trust  I  did  heartily,  more  thanonceevery  day,  from 
the  time  I  heard  of  her  sickness;  and  that  God  would  sanc- 
tify the  afflictive  dispensation  for  good  to  all  the  family;  and 
now  also,  that  God  may  be  your  supporter  and  comforter. — 
In  respect  of  yourself,  I  would  remind  you  of  the  question 
asked  by  the  Lord  in  Jeremiah,  Wilt  thou  notfrom  this  time 
cry  unto  me^  My  Father,  be  thou  the  guide  of  my  youth/*  (Jer. 
iii,  4.) — It  would  not  be  seasonable  to  enter  into  particulars 
on  this  melancholy  occasion;  lest  I  should  seem  to  speak 
to  the  grief  of  those  whom  God  hath  wounded.  But  you  must 
be  conscious,  that  a  radical  and  entire  change  is  needful,  in 
order  to  your  participating  the  joy  of  God's  salvation;  at 
least,  you  must  be  aware,  that  this  is  my  judgment,  from 
what  I  have  hitherto  observed  and  heard. 

"Your  favored  situation  at  Leicester,  and  the  opportuni- 
ties which  you  have  formerly  had  of  hearing  my  dear  de- 
parted friend  and  brother  Mr.  liohixnion,  whose  praise  is  in  all 
the  churches;  as  well  as  your  present  advantages;  preclude 
the  necessity  of  my  entering  into  particulars,  as  your  for- 
mer letter  seemed  to  intimate  a  desire  of  my  doing.  But  if, 
aware  of  that  plainness  of  speech  which  1  am  accustomed 
to  use  on  such  intinitely  important  topics,  though,  I  trust, 
connected  with  tender  sympathy  and  affection,  you  should 
still  desire  me  to  write  to  you  on  the  subject,  and  point  out 
any  special  questions  on  which  you  wish  for  my  opinion; 
notwithstanding  my  inlirmities  and  engagements,  I  will  en- 
deavor to  answer  you:  and  if  any  book  of  mine,  which  you 
have  not,  would  be  acceptable  to  you  or  your  father,  send 
me  word  and  1  will  order  it. 

"But  1  believe  the  whole  in  your  case  may  nearly  be 
«(ummed  up  in  the  exhortation,  to  listen  patiently  and  atten- 
tively to  your  own  conscience;  to  reverence  it;  and  tore- 
member  that,  by  acting  contrary  to  it  in  any  degree  or  in- 
stance, or  endeavoring  to  suppress  its  dictates,  you  quench 
the  Spirit  of  God,  and  provoke  him  to  leave  you. — 1  cannot 
but  think,  you  know  enough  of  the  great  outlines  of  evuD' 


292  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  XW 

gelical  religion,  and  are  so  far  convinced  of  the  truth  of  it, 
that,  in  following  the  dictates  of  your  conscience,  you  would 
be  led  to  separate  from  the  vanities  6f  a  vain  world;  to  re- 
pent and  turn  to  God,  and  do  works  meet  for  repentance;  to 
come  to  Christ,  sit  at  his  feet  with  Mary,  hear  his  word  with 
obedient  faith,  and  make  his  commandments  the  rule,  and 
his  example,  the  pattern,  of  your  future  conduct.  This 
alone  is  the  way  of  peace  and  happiness:  this  alone  can  pre- 
pare you  for  an  earlier  death,  or  prove  the  way  for  com- 
fort  in  declining  years,  (should  you  Hve  to  that  time,)  under 
the  infirmities  of  age,  and  the  near  prospect  of  death.  All 
else,  however  it  may  gUtter  in  youthful  and  worldly  eyes, 
is  mere  tinsel;  it  is  vanit\j  and  vexation  of  spirit:^ 

*'I  have  informed  our  friends  as  you  desired. — The  first 
time  for  above  a  twelvemonth,  I  have  left  home,  and  ridden 
over  to   Stone,  where  your  cousin  King  lives,  about   five 

miles  from  Aston We  all  unite  in  condolence,  and 

kind  remembrance  to  your  father  and  the  rest  of  the  ftimily; 
and  in  prayer  for  you  all.     I  remain  your  affectionate  uncle, 

Thomas  Scott." 

This  correspondence  with  his  niece  continued,  and  pro- 
duced some  letters  which  may  hereafter  be  introduced. 
He  says  to  her,  Dec.  13,  1814,  "It  is  very  true  that  I  can 
spare  little  time  for  letter-writing,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of 
the  word:  but,  if  I  could,  by  any  thing  which  I  might  write, 
be  an  instrument  in  the  hand  of  God  in  leading  yon  into  the 
paths  of  peace  and  salvation,  it  would  ikll  in  with  the  object 
of  all  my  occupation — the  ininistrtj  of  reconciliation — be- 
seeching siymers  to  he  reconciled  to  God.'^ 

In  January  followin^^',  cccurred  a  death  which  might 
justly  be  accounted  a  public,  as  well  as  private  loss — that 
of  my  father's  highly  esteemed  fHend  and  benefactor,  Mr. 
Henry  Thornton.  About  a  year  before  that  event,  after  a 
considerable  interruption  of  their  intercourse,  he  had  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  Mr.  T.,  just  in  the  midst  of  his  disqui- 
etude at  the  discovery  he  had  made  of  the  state  of  his  pe- 
cuniary affairs,  which  was  highly  cheering  to  his  mind.  It 
breathed  united  kindness  and  piety,  "t  have  heard  lately,*' 
said  the  writer,  "one  or  two  very  unfavorable  accounts  of 
your  health,  and  1  cannot  resist  my  inchnation  to  assure  you, 
though  from  this  desk  of  worldly  business,  how  much  1 
sympathize  with  you  in  those  temporal  sorrows,  which  I 
doubt  not  are  working  out  for  you,  as  you  have  been  used 
so  often  to  say  to  others,  a  far  more  exceeding  and  etern()k{ 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  295 

weight  of  glory. — Having  in  more  early  life  been  an  attend- 
ant on  your  ministry,  I  cannot  at  this  later  period  be  for- 
getful of  my  obligations  to  you;  and,  though  I  may  have 
assisted  you  in  some  degree  in  what  may  partly  be  called 
your  carnal  things,  1  mean  in  what  concerned  the  printing 
of  your  Commentary  on  the  Bible,  I  still  feel  myself  on  the 
whole  your  debtor;  since  my  advantages,  like  those,  I  trust, 
of  many  others,  are  not  capable  of  being  estimated  at  any 
pecuniary  price." — My  father  had  just  been  preaching 
from  the  passage  of  scripture  alluded  to  by  Mr.  T.,  (2  Cor. 
iv,  16 — 18,)  when  on  his  return  home  he  found  this  letter, 
and  in  it  a  real  cordial,  such  as  he  wanted.  He  considered 
it  as  confirming  the  intimation  he  had  formerly  received 
from  Mr.  T.'s  father,  that  his  ministry  bad  been  blessed  as 
the  means  of  first  giving  a  decidedly  religious  turn  to  Mr. 
H.  T.'s  mind.  Independently,  therefore,  of  the  kindness 
which  it  breathed,  and  the  "dawn  of  light"  which  it  cast 
upon  the  "gloom"  that  had  surrounded  him,  it  could  not 
but  aiTord  him  the  highest  gratification  to  think  of  having 
contributed,  in  any  degree,  to  the  formation  of  such  a 
character  as  Henry  Thornton;  and  much  more  to  have 
been  made  instrumental  (as  he  hoped,)  m  infusing  that- 
principle,  which  was  the  firm  basis  of  all  his  sterling  vir- 
tues.— Proportioned,  accordingly,  to  the  regard  which  he 
bore  to  Mr.  H.  T.,  was  my  father's  regret  for  his  loss,  when 
he  was  removed  from  the  world  by  a  death,  so  premature 
to  all  but  himself.  His  notice  of  it  in  a  letter,  written  a 
few  days  after,  is  brief,  but  touching;  and  at  the  same  time 
worthy  of  the  writer.  "1  cannot  express,"  he  says,  "how 
much  the  death  of  Mr.  H.  Thornton  affects  me;  even  as  the 
death  of  some  near  relation.  I  feel  low  and  grieved  when- 
ever I  think  of  it:  but  the  Lord  is  wise  and  faithful.  The 
Lord  reward  upon  h^s  fatherless  children  all  his  kindness  to 
me  and  mine! — As  far  as  either  your  concerns  or  mine  are 
implicated,  it  is  a  fresh  lesson  on  the  admonition,  ( 'case  ye 
from  mun^  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils.  When  the  rush- 
light in  my  chamber  goes  out,  it  is  dark;  but  that  darkness 
leads  me  to  expect  the  dawn  and  the  sun.  All  things  will  be 
right  c^t  last,  if  we  be  right.  Nothing  is  of  much  conse- 
S^^iljIHjk  eternity." 

Thfsf?nyer  for  Mr.  H,  T.'s  "ilitherless  children,"  (who  so 
soon  after  became  motherless  also,)  he  never  ceased  to  re- 
peat :i-  long  as  he  lived;  almost  daily  alluding  to  them,  though 
*25 


294  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE       [Cmp.  tV. 

without  a  name,  yet  in  a  manner  that  was  understood,  in  his 
family  worship. 

The  next  publication,  which  proceeded  from  my  father's 
pen,  was  occasioned  by  the  death  of  another  highly  honored 
and  dear  friend,  whom  he  always  considered  as  one  of  the 
most  eminent  Christians  that  he  had  ever  known  or  read 
of.  This  was  the  Right  Hon.  Lady  Mary  Fitzgerald. 
That  excellent  person  lost  her  life,  at  nearly  ninety  years  of 
age,  by  fire!  and  my  father  preached  and  published,  in  April, 
1815,  a  sermon  on  the  occasion,  in  which  he  gives  a  very  in- 
teresting sketch  of  her  character,  and  the  outline  of  her  his- 
tory. He  observes  in  the  preface,  that  she  "was  constant- 
ly, when  in  town,  and  when  her  health  would  permit,  an  at- 
tendant on  his  ministry  for  above  seventeen  years."  "1  was 
also  honored,"  he  says,  "with  what  might  almost  be  consid- 
ered as   an  intimacy   with  her She  was  very  useful  in 

strengthening  my  hands  in  my  ministry,  when  concurring 
circumstances  tended  greatly  to  weaken  and  discourage  me: 
and  she  has  alWays  been  ready  to  aid  and  concur  with  me  in 
every  plan  for  attempting  usefulness,  not  only  while  1  was 
in  town,  but  since  I  came  to  this  place."  In  the  body  of 
the  discourse,  speaking  with  reference  to  the  same  subject, 
he  says:  "Many  a  time,  wlien  cares  and  disquietudes  seemed 
to  disqualify  my  mind,  for  either  receiving  or  imparting- 
spiritual  good,  and  I  called  on  her,  rather  from  a  sense  of 
duty,  and  to  testify  respect  and  gratitude,  than  from  higher 
motives  and  expectations;  free  communication,  in  discourse, 
with  her,  has  produced  such  a  change,  and  I  have  been  so 
sensibly  calmed,  refreshed,  and  animated  for  every  work 
and  labor  of  love,  that  1  could  hardly  believe  myself  the 
same  anxious,  heartless  being,  which  1  had  been  only  just, 
before.  Indeed  I  may  say,  I  scarcely  over  experienced 
such  an  effect  from  any  book  or  sermon,  however  excellent. 
And  this  was  the  case  especially  in  ray  last  visits  to  her; 
when  I  was  led  to  think,  from  what  1  had  previously  heard,, 
that  concurring  infirmities  precluded  much  expectation  of 
interesting  discourse  between  us." 

The  following  extracts  of  letters  will  shew  what  were 
his  further  occupations  at  this  period. 

"March  13,  1815.  1  have  sent  to  the  Christiai|jl||Ever 
a  sheet  of  translation  from  Calvin,  on  the  uses  <|^^^|k^'^^ 
law,  which  appears  to  me  exceedingly  ^^^^^^|HB^^^ 
meet  the  perversions  of  modern  Calvinists,  as  wW^s  to 
vindicate  the  author  from  the  ignorant  and  illiberal  abuse 


18)3—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  295 

generally  thrown  on  him.  I  have  a  great  idea  that  extracts 
iVom  Calvin  might  be  rendered  very  useful,  if  circulated  at 
present.  I  am  studying  him  more  than  I  ever  did  before; 
and,  in  my  revisal  of  the  '^Remarks,"  (which  I  am  trying^ 
to  put  quite  into  another  form,  and  not  only  to  condense, 
but  to  improve  every  way,)  I  now  and  then  make  most  con- 
clusive quotations  from  him.  I  allow  the  time  in  the  fore- 
noon, after   1  have  taught  ,  for  this  employment, 

Avhen  not  interrupted. 

"But  my  main  occupation  is  the  Index  to  the  Bible. 
The  partners  are  so  urgent  for  me  to  expedite  it,  that  I  am 
forced  to  give  up,  or  postpone  my  plans  of  revision  and 
improvement  of  the  Commentary,  which  I  was  carrying  on, 
in,  \  trust,  a  useful  manner.  1  spend  half,  or  more,  of  my 
zvorking  time  (which  is  nearly  all,  except  sleeping  time,) 
about  it. — I  lind  it  a  difficult  and  cumbrous  busihess:  and  yet 
1  think  the  Index  itself  will  throw  much  light  on  the  scrip- 
tures, and  on  the  comment.  I  must  begin  very  soon  to- 
print;  and-  when  I  am  preparing  copy  for  the  press,  I  hope 
(lod  will  aid  me  to  simpUfy  the  business,  more  than  1  can 
do  in  the  rough  draft. 

"  i'horaas's  Sermon  and  Memoir  of  Mr.  West  give  an 
idea  of  sterling  excellence  mi  generis^^  which  isf  suited  to 
put  most  affluent  professors  of  the  gospel  on  thinking, 
What  do  I?    or.  What  might  I  do?" 

The  last  paragraph  refers  to  my  brother''s  little  publica- 
tion on  the  death  of  the  founder  of  Gawcott  Chapel,  which 
was  before  mentioned.  Of  the  Index  to  the  Commentary, 
which  afterwards  partook  also  of  the  character  of  a  Con-> 
cordance  to  the  sacred  text,  and  was  finally  relinquished  for 
more  urgent,  perhaps  more  important  employment,  we 
shall  have  further  occasion  to  speak  as  we  proceed. 

"May  16,  1815.  I  have  had  some  measure  of  fever,  and, 
though  i  have  not  been  laid  by,  I  have  been  rendered  less 
capable  of  extra-exertion  than  usual.  I  have  written  and 
published  a  funeral  sermon  on  dear  Lady  Mary  Fitzger- 
ald  1  have  also  been  forming  an  mdex  to  my  answer 

to  Crooll,  which  is  just  coming  out.  .... 

"You  will  have  heard  that  Mr.  Fuller  is  dead.  This 
wJjUjMa  great  loss  to  the  Baptist  Mission  especially:  but  it 
'"^^^^ftly  fixed,  that  it  is  not  likely  to  be  easily  shaken* 
V^^^Bbss  eagerness  about  adult  baptism,  in  u  secretary, 
w(jlWWompensale  something. — So  one  goes,  and  another, 
younger  than  I,  and  1  go  on  preaching  and  writing!  1  have 


296  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE        [Chap.  XV. 

written  a  long  letter,  which  is  printing  in  an  Irish  pamphlet, 
respecting  our  church,  &c.;  in  which  I  am  sure  I  shall  not 
satisfy  the  bigots  on  any  side;  but  which,  I  flatter  myself, 
may  do  some  good.  The  pamphlet  is  entitled,  'The  Evil 
of  Separation  from  the  Established  Church,  in  a  Series  of 
Letters  to  the  Rev.  Peter  Roe,  Kilkenny.'  I  had  no  hand 
in  the  title,  or  in  any  thing  but  the  introductory  letter. 

'4  think  more  good  is  going  on  in  this  neighborhood  thai> 
there  was,  and  fresh  persons  come,  in  place  of  that  large 
proportion  of  the  old  congregation  which  has  left  us:  so 
that  our  company  is  not  much  smaller.  I  go  on  with  my 
routine  of  services,  as  usual,  but  am  extremely  weary;  yet 
not  materially  worse  afterwards." 

About  two  years  afterwards,  the  pamphlet,  here  referred 
to,  was  reprinted  in  London;  and,  on  that  occasion,  my  fa- 
ther added  a*second  letter,  with  an  appendage,  of  which  he 
speaks  as  follows: — 

"In  revising  my  papers  which  Mr.  Roe  published,  I 
have  been  led  to  write  a  Treatise  on  the  religion  of  Israel, 
as  an  establishment,  and  have  been  drawn  on  to  extend  it  to 
some  sheets.  It  is,  I  think,  quite  original,  and  gives  a  view 
of  the  whole  subject,  entirely  diflerent  from  what  I  ever 
read  or  conceived  before  I  began,  and  highly  favorable  to 
establishments  in  g6/ieraZ."  .... 

The  mention  which  occurs  of  the  changes  in  his  congre- 
gation may  giveoc  casion  here  to  introduce  the  following  ex- 
cellent remarks  from  a  letter,  written,  at  a  somewhat  ear- 
lier period,  to  a  gentleman  then  resident  at  Cambridge,  but 
since  very  usefully  emplo^'ed  in  the  ministry;  who,  at  the 
instance  of  a  clerical  friend,  consulted  him  on  the  best 
means  of  obviating  such  fluctuations. 

"March  7,  1814.  1  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your 
kind  inquiries  after  my  health,  and  to  all  my  friends  who 
pray  for  me  in  this  respect:  but  1  especially  need  and  value 
prayer  for  me,  that  I  may  be  carried  through  the  last  stage 
of  my  pilgrimage,  in  a  manner  which  may  adorn  and  honor 
the  gospel  of  God  our  Savior. 

"  •  •  •  •  I  am  enabled  to  spend  almost  as  much  time  in  my 
studies,  and  with  my  pen,  as  heretofore;  and  to  officiate  in 
my  little  church  as  formerly.  Indeed  I  wish  I  wer€^||a||il 
able  in  mind,  as  in  body,  to  answer  the  inquiry  whicl^^U 
so  reluctantly  propose  to  me:  but  this  is  by  no  ineanis  the 
case.  All  my  experience,  and  observation,  and  study^'lffiiT)!- 
ly  fail  to  teach  me  how  to  keep  together  a  congregation, 


1813—1821.]      TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  SOT 

which  is  prejudiced  against  some  part  of  that  instruction, 
which  faithfulness  renders  it  my  duty  to  inculcate,  it  seems 
to  me  as  hopeless,  as  to  give  the  farmer  counsel  how  he 
may  use  his  fan,  and  yet  not  lessen  the  heap  of  corn  and 
chaff  on  his  barn-floor.  Even  in  respect  of  opinions  about 
adult  baptism  introduced  lately  in  my  httle  congregation, 
all  the  plans,  which  I  have  devised,  seem  wholly  to  tail,  in 
respect  of  keeping  together  even  those  who  received  their 
first  religious  impressions  under  my  ministry.  1  have  pray- 
ed much  respecting  it,  and  varied  my  plans:  but  yet  my 
people  continue  to  leave  me;  especially  the  newly-awakened, 
who,  I  fear,  go  to  be  lulled  asleep  again  by  immersion,* 
and  joining  a  baptist  congregation  in  the  next  village 

"In  all  cases,  as  far  as  my  experience  and  observation 
reach,  they,  who  have  received  partial  religious  instruc- 
tion, and,  as  it  were,  made  up  their  minds  to  it^  will  hear  a 
new  minister  so  long  as  he  tells  them  what  they  already 
know  or  believe.  This  is  the  standard  by  which  they  try  his 
doctrine:  but,  if  he  attempts  to  rectity  their  errors,  how- 
ever manifest,  and  with  whatever  abihty  and  candor  he 
does  it;  or  to  instruct  their  ignorance,  however  palpable^ 
they  will  take  offence,  and  probably  forsake  his  ministry; 
accusing  him  of  some  deviation  from  sound  doctrine,  as  their 
reason  for  so  doing.  Yet,  without  their  errors  being  recti- 
fi^,  or  their  deficiencies  supplied,  or  their  characters  im- 
proved, their  attendance  is  wholly  in  vain 

"A  niece  of  mine,  now  married  to  a  missionary  in  Afri- 
ca, used  to  say,  that  I  preached  stra/ight forward:  and  thus 
I  would  advise  your  friend  to  do;  to  preach  straight  for- 
rt'crn/,  declaring  what  he  deems  the  truth  of  God,  simply 
and  plainly;  but  not  turning  aside  to  argue  against  any  who 
dissent  from  it,  except  in  matters  of  superior  importance 
and  clearness. 

''He  should,  however,  endeavor  to  proportion  his  doc- 
trine to  the  scriptural  measure;  and  not  to  have  more 
Calvinism,  properly  so  called,  in  his  sermons,  in  proportion 
to  other  instructions,  than  is  found  in  the  New-Testament. 
Some  Calvinists  put  as  much  into  a  sermon  as  the  whole  of 
St.  Paul's  epistles  contain,  but  far  less  of  other  things.  Mr.. 
Newton  used  to  say,  that  Calvinism  should  be,  in  our  gen- 
eral religious  instructions,  like  a  lump  of  sugar  in  a  cup  of 
tea;  all  should  taste  of  it,  but  it  should  not  be  met  with    in 

*  Viz.  by  resting  in  the  external  change  and  ^jrofession. 


298  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE  [Chap.  XV^. 

a  separate  form. — I  think  I  could  preach  all,  which  is  es- 
sential to  my  Calvinism,  even  to  piaus  Wesley ans,  for  a 
short  time,  and  almost  win  their  assent:  but  not  all  Meth- 
odists are  pious  and  humble;  the  hearts  as  well  as  the  headsj 
of  some  are  Arminian:  these  are,  and  will  be,  spies:  they 
will  discern  the  deviation,  if  not  by  seeing.,  yet  by  feeling; 
and  will  alarm  their  more  humble  brethren, — Yet  still  in- 
dividuals will  get  good;  and  others  will  be  brought  forthj 
and,  when  we  have  done  what  we  can,  we  must  leave  the 
rest  to  God  in  prayer." 

With  thi^  may  be  connected  a  short  extract  from  a  let- 
ter to  his  youngest  son,  written  at  the  period  at  which  we 
have  arrived. 

"•October  23,  1813.  I  suppose  no  man  ever  entered  on 
a  new  sphere,  with  your  views  of  what  man  ought  to  be, 
without  finding  more  and  more,  that  those  among  whom  he 
labored  were  further  from  that  standard  than  he  at  first  sup- 
posed. Human  wickedness  and  human  misery  always  ap- 
pear greater  on  investigation  than  on  a  superficial  view. 
I3ut  to  be  the  honored  instrument  of  doing  even  a  little  good 
in  this  mischievous,  miserable,  deluded,  ungodly  world,  is  a 
singular  mercy  and  privilege:  and  the  more  diseased  your 
neighbors  are,  the  more  is  medical  help  needful.  Some, 
yea,  many,  will  die,  do  all  you  can:  but  take  heed  to  thyself 
and  to  the  doctrine^  for  in  so  doing  thou  shalt  both  save  thy^lf 
and  them  that  hear  thee.  A  little  good  one  year,  and  a  little 
good  another  year,  amounts  to  much  good  in  a  course  of 
years.  Watch  then  against  dejection.  Preach,  and  pray, 
and  wait,  and  persevere,  and  all  will  be  well  at  last." 

We  have  already  seen  him  contemplating  a  new  and  re- 
modelled edition  of  his  answer  to  the  '•^Refutation  of  Calvin- 
ism." This  was  one  of  the  works  which  now  employed 
such  time  as  could  be  spared  for  it.  He  says,  January  6, 
1816,'^The  first  book  of  the  Remarks  is  finished;  much  en- 
larged and  reduced  to  method,  under  numerous  sections; 
several  contaming  entirely  new  matter.  I  purpose  to  leave 
out  nil,  or  most,  beyond  the  fourth  book,  and  to  shorten  that. 
I  have  begun  to  print;  but  I  shall  go  on  very  slowly." — 
The  parts  thus  proposed  to  be  omitted  were  chiefly  those 
which  related  to  the  extracts  from  the  Fathers,  introduced 
in  the  "Refutation."  >:" 

This  year  (1816)  was  a  year  of  many  trials  to  hina.  At 
the  commencement  of  it  he  suffered  from  fever;  and  again 
so  severely,  in  the  month  of  April,  that  he  fully  anticipated 


1813—1321.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  29d 

its  fatal  termination.  The  life  also  of  his  second  son  was 
brought  into  the  most  imminent  peril  by  sudden  and  very 
distressing  illness;  while  his  youngest  son  was  obliged  to 
relinquish  a  situation,  in  which  he  had  hoped  for  much  use- 
fulness, by  the  great  profligacy  and  even  threatening  be- 
havior of  a  manufacturing  population,  which  rendered  it 
improper  to  retain  a  family  among  Ihem.  Certain  calam- 
itous events  also  in  collateral  branches  of  the  family  greatly 
afflicted  him;  as  did  the  pamfui  intelligence  of  the  deaths  of 
missionaries  in  Africa,  who  had  been  trained  by  him,  and 
from  whose  labors  he  looked  for  important  results.  These, 
and  other  circumstances,  gave  occasion  to  certain  expres- 
sions in  some  further  extracts  which  I  shall  present  from 
his  letters. 

The  tbllowing  hints  on  the  subject  of  temptations  arising 
chiefly  from  the  deep  and  mysterious  dealings  of  God  with 
the  human  race;  and  likewise  on  that  of  anxiety  concern- 
ing the  spiritual  interests  and  future  state  of  our  children; 
will  not  be  uninteresting  to  those  who  have  experienced  the 
feelings  referred  to. 

"March  4,  1816.  I  have  of  late  received  so  many  letters 
of  pamfui  intelligence,  that  they  have  almost  been  to  me 
like  the  messengers,  who  followed  one  another  with  evil 
tidings  to  Job;  though,  1  bless  God,  far  from  so  distressing; 
yet,  in  my  shattered  frame  and  spirits,  rather  more  than  I 
could  well  support. . . . 

"I  have,  for  many  years,  when  assailed  by  harassing 
mental  temptations,  taken  occasion  from  them  to  leave,  as  it 
were,  my  own  personal  concerns,  and  to  enlarge  especially, 
after,  or  even  during  their  prevalence,  in  supplications  lor 
the  extension  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  and  for  the  subver- 
sion of  that  of  Satan;  subjoining  a  sort  of  earnest  request,  to 
be  enabled  to  be  revenged  on  these  enemies,  by  more  vig- 
orous and  successful  efi'orts  in  the  cause  of  God  ...  Tempt- 
ations follow  tempers;  and  Satan  has  awfully  prevailed 
against  some  persons  of  a  reasoning  turn  of  mind. — Such 
things  used  to  harass  me  much  more  than  they  do  at  pres- 
ent. I  would  hope  because  I  take  a  better  method  of  get- 
ting deliverance  from  them. ...  In  general  I  consider  them 
as  temptations  to  unbeliefs  contrary  to  the  fullest  proof  con- 
ceivable; the  remains  of  the  skepticism  of  our  hearts, 
wrought  upon  by  satanical  influence,  as  the  waves  of  the 
«ea  are  by  the  wind;  and  to  be  overcome  only  by  the  sword 
<if  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  w^d  of  Qod-^T^iVS  it  is  written; 


.300  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE       [Chap.  XV. 

and  by  earnest  prayer,  Increase  my  faith!  Help  mine  unbe- 
lief! ....  I  every  day  find  cause  to  bless  God  for  protection 
from  the  assaults  of  these  enemies  in  this  respect;  of  which 
I  formerly  had  dire  experience.  O  make  strong  thine  hedge 
about  me!  (Job  i,  10.)" 

On  the  case  of  these  "reasoning  persons,"  he  says,  in  ex- 
planation, March  19,  "Not  one  of  them,  that  I  have  heard 
and  known  of,  seems  to  have  received  the  love  of  the  truth, 
as  well  as  the  knowledge  of  the  truth;  {'z  Thess.  ii,  10:  Heb. 
X,  26:) — a  distinction  which  appears  to  me  of  great  impor- 
tance. A  want  of  simplicity,  humiUty,  and  gravity,  has 
likewise  been  observable  in  them,  by  all  competent  judges, 
even  while  brilliant  talents  excited  the  admiration  of  pious 
persons  in  general." 

With  reference  to  the  same  subject  he  says,  June  25,  "I 
remember  that,  just  before  I  entered  on  my  exposition  of 
the  book  of  Job,  I  was  much  more  exercised  with  such 
temptations,  arising  from  the  awful  truths  of  scripture,  and 
dispensations  of  God,  than  at  any  time  before  or  since:  and 
I  have  long  thought,  that  this  was  permitted,  among  other 
things,  in  order  to  give  me  more  realizing  views  of  that 
awful  subject,  the  power  and  agency  of  evil  spirits,  than  I 
before  had;  and  that  it  proved  very  useful  to  me  in  explain- 
ing that  part  of  scripture." 

"March  14,  1816.  Human  nature  verges  to  extremes: 
it  is  the  pendulum,  vibrating  to  and  fro,  and  never  stationary 
in  medio.  Yet  truth  and  duty  generally  lie  in  medio. — The 
want  of  sohcitude  about  the  salvation  of  their  children,  and 
undue  solicitude  about  accomplishments,  preferment,  and 
worldly  advantages,  which  are  promment  in  most  parents, 
even  professors  of  the  gospel,  nay  ministers,  have  been  and 
are  a  most  lamentable  evil,  and  a  grievous  sign  of  our 
times.  But,  while  this  is  watched  and  prayed  against,  we 
should  be  careful  not  to  run  into  any  extreme  which  im- 
plies distrust  of  God,  or  want  of  submission  to  his  holy  and 
sovereign  will,  who  doeth  what  he  pleases,  but  always  does 
what  is  right;  and  what  all  his  friends  will  know  to  be  right 
at  last,  and  ought  to  believe  to  be  so  now I  am  of  opin- 
ion, that  few  thus  trained  up  (in  a  consistent  Christian  man- 
ner,) live  and  die  unconverted. ...  In  general,  the  Lord's 
method  is,  1  think,  first,  to  bring  down  our  wills  into  submis- 
sion, unreserved  submission;  and  then  to  grant  the  thing 
longed  for:  and  the  sweetness  of  unreserved  submission, 
after  many  conflicts  with  unbelief  and  a  rebellious  will,  has 


j813-_1821.]         TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  301 

been  greater  than  almost  any  I  ever  felt,  in  having-  the  de- 
sires o(  my  heart  granted  me.  This  was  the  final  result  of 
my  long  protracted  rebellion  against  the  doctrine  of  gratu- 
itous election.  I  shall  not  forget  the  sweetness  of  saying, 
for  substance,  Even  so,  Father,  for  so  it  seemed  good  in  thy 
sightP' 

On  recovering  from  the  fever  under  which  he  suffered  in 
the  spring,  he  thus  wrote  to  his  correspondent  in  Northum- 
berland. 

''May  9,  1816.  I  am  quite  a  prisoner  in  this  place;  but 
can  reach  the  church,  and  preach  nearly  as  usual.  I  can 
also  write,  and  read,  and  study,  many  hours  in  a  day;  but 
always  uneasy  and  weary.  My  sight,  however,  and  my 
faculties  seem  unimpaired;  though  I  hear  badly,  walk  clum- 
sily and  with  pain,  and  do  not  suppose  I  shall  ever  try  to  ride 
more. — I  have,  however,  numerous  and  most  valuable  mer- 
cies, and  only  need  a  more  holy  and  thankful  heart.  I  am 
now  in  my  seventieth  year;  and  have  outhved  almost  all  who 
were    my   contemporaries,  and  many  of  my  juniors,  in  the 

ministry All  my    care    and   prayers    about  my  own 

children  in  this  respect  (their  conversion)  are  transferred- 
to  my  sixteen  grand-children.  ...  I  desire,  and,  I  trust, 
shall  not  in  vain  desire,  the  help  of  your  prayers,  both  for 
them  and  myself^ — that  I  may  close  well.  ...  It  might  be 
expected  that  I  should  write  to  each  of  them,  and  talk  par- 
ticularly to  them,  when  I  see  them,  in  the  way  you  wish 
me  to  write  to  your  children:  but  I  either  never  had  the 
proper  talent  for  this  kind  of  service,  or  I  have  quite  lost 
it.  I  pray  for  them,  and  say  a  few  things  to  such  as  come 
to  see  me;  and  they  seem  very  much  attached  to  me:  but 
I  seem  ashamed  that  I  feel  no  liberty  of  being  more  explicit 
with  them.  I  trust,  however,  their  parents  supply  my 
lack  of  service.  I  seem  to  have  lost  my  talent  of  prattling 
with  children,  just  as  I  have  my  adroitness  in  nursing.  You 
must,  in  this  respect,  tell  your  children  what  you  think  I 
would  say  or  write  to  them.  I  will  send  you  a  few  of  my 
later  publications, ....  and  if  you  meet  with  aught  too 
Galvinistic,  you  must  skip  it.''^ 

The  closing  sentence  will  not  pass  unnoticed:  "If  you 
meet  with  aught  too  Galvinistic,  you  must  skip  it."  As 
coming  from  so  inveterate  a  Calvinist,  it  may  deserve  to  be 
agam  referred  to;  as  may  also  one  or  two  other  things 
w  bich  have  come  before  us.  They  may  shew,  where  per- 
26 


,300  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE       [Chap.  XV. 

and  by  earnest  prayer,  Increase  my  faith!  Help  mine  unhe- 
lief! ....  I  every  day  find  cause  to  bless  God  ibr  protection 
from  the  assaults  of  these  enemies  in  this  respect;  of  which 
I  formerly  had  dire  experience.  O  make  strong  thine  hedge 
about  me!  (Job  i,  10.)" 

On  the  case  of  these  "reasoning  persons,"  he  says,  in  ex- 
planation, March  19,  "Not  one  of  them,  that  I  have  heard 
and  known  of,  seems  to  have  received  the  love  of  the  truth, 
as  well  as  the  knowledge  of  the  truth;  (iii  Thess.  ii,  10:  Heb. 
X,  26:) — a  distinction  which  appears  to  me  of  great  impor- 
tance. A  want  of  simplicity,  humility,  and  gravity,  has 
likewise  been  observable  in  them,  by  all  competent  judges, 
even  while  brilliant  talents  excited  the  admiration  of  pious 
persons  in  general." 

With  reference  to  the  same  subject  he  says,  June  25,  "I 
remember  that,  just  before  I  entered  on  my  exposition  of 
the  book  of  Job,  I  was  much  more  exercised  with  such 
temptations,  arising  from  the  awful  truths  of  scripture,  and 
dispensations  of  God,  than  at  any  time  before  or  since:  and 
I  have  long  thought,  that  this  was  permitted,  among  other 
things,  in  order  to  give  me  more  realizing  views  of  that 
awtul  subject,  the  power  and  agency  of  evil  spirits,  than  I 
before  had;  and  that  it  proved  very  useful  to  me  in  explain- 
ing that  part  of  scripture." 

"March  14,  1816.  Human  nature  verges  to  extremes: 
it  is  the  pendulum,  vibrating  to  and  fro,  and  never  stationary 
in  medio.  Yet  truth  and  duty  generally  lie  in  medio. — The 
want  of  solicitude  about  the  salvation  of  their  children,  and 
undue  solicitude  about  accomplishments,  preferment,  and 
worldly  advantages,  which  are  promment  in  most  parents, 
even  professors  of  the  gospel,  nay  ministers,  have  been  and 
are  a  most  lamentable  evil,  and  a  grievous  sign  of  our 
times.  But,  while  this  is  watched  and  prayed  against,  we 
should  be  careful  not  to  run  into  any  extreme  which  im- 
plies distrust  of  God,  or  want  of  submission  to  his  holy  and 
sovereign  will,  who  doeth  what  he  pleases,  but  always  does 
what  is  right;  and  what  all  his  friends  will  know  to  be  right 
at  last,  and  ought  to  believe  to  be  so  now I  am  of  opin- 
ion, that  few  thus  trained  up  (in  a  consistent  Christian  man- 
ner,) live  and  die  unconverted. ...  In  general,  the  Lord's 
method  is,  I  think,  first,  to  bring  down  our  wills  into  submis- 
sion, unreserved  submission;  and  then  to  grant  the  thing 
longed  for:  and  the  sweetness  of  unreserved  submission, 
after  many  conflicts  with  unbelief  and  a  rebellious  will,  has 


)^813— 1821.]         TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  301 

been  greater  than  almost  any  I  ever  felt,  in  having  the  de- 
sires of  my  heart  granted  me.  This  was  the  final  result  of 
my  long  protracted  rebellion  against  the  doctrine  of  gratu- 
itous election.  I  shall  not  forget  the  sweetness  of  saying, 
for  substance,  Even  so,  Father,  for  so  it  seemed  good  in  thy 
sightP' 

On  recovering  from  the  fever  under  which  he  suffered  in 
the  spring,  he  thus  wrote  to  his  correspondent  in  Northum- 
berland. 

"May  9,  1816.  I  am  quite  a  prisoner  in  this  place;  but 
can  reach  the  church,  and  preach  nearly  as  usual.  1  can 
also  write,  and  read,  and  study,  many  hours  in  a  day;  but 
always  uneasy  and  weary.  My  sight,  however,  and  my 
faculties  seem  unimpaired;  though  I  hear  badly,  walk  clum- 
sily and  with  pain,  and  do  not  suppose  I  shall  ever  try  to  ride 
more. — I  have,  however,  numerous  and  most  valuable  mer- 
cies, and  only  need  a  more  holy  and  thankful  heart.  I  am 
now  in  my  seventieth  year;  and  have  outlived  almost  all  who 
were    my  contemporaries,  and  man}^  of  my  juniors,  in  the 

ministry All  my    care    and  prayers    about  my  own 

children  in  this  respect  (their  conversion)  are  transferred' 
to  my  sixteen  grand-children.  ...  I  desire,  and,  I  trust, 
shall  not  in  vain  desire,  the  help  of  your  prayers,  both  for 
them  and  myselt^ — that  I  may  close  well.  ...  It  might  be 
expected  that  I  should  write  to  each  of  them,  and  talk  par- 
ticularly to  them,  when  I  see  them,  in  the  way  you  wish 
me  to  write  to  your  children:  but  I  either  never  had  the 
proper  talent  for  this  kind  of  service,  or  I  have  quite  lost 
it.  I  pray  for  them,  and  say  a  few  things  to  such  as  come 
to  see  me;  and  they  seem  very  much  attached  to  me:  but 
I  seem  ashamed  that  I  feel  no  liberty  of  being  more  explicit 
with  them.  I  trust,  however,  their  parents  supply  my 
lack  of  service.  1  seem  to  have  lost  my  talent  of  prattling 
with  children,  just  as  I  have  my  adroitness  in  nursing.  You 
must,  in  this  respect,  tell  your  children  what  you  think  I 
would  say  or  write  to  them.  I  will  send  you  a  few  of  my 
later  publications, ....  and  if  you  meet  with  aught  too 
Galvinistic,  you  must  skip  it.''^ 

The  closing  sentence  will  not  pass  unnoticed:  "If  you 
meet  with  aught  too  Galvinistic,  you  must  skip  it."  As 
coming  from  so  inveterate  a  Calvinist,  it  may  deserve  to  be 
agam  referred  to;  as  may  also  one  or  two  other  things 
which  have  come  before  us.  They  may  shew,  where  per- 
26 


302  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  XV. 

sons  of  my  father's  sentiments  really  lay  the  stress,  privately 
as  well  as  in  public. 

To  myself  he  wrote  at  this  period:  "As  I  am  now  in  my 
seventieth  year,  it  might  not  be  amiss  to  come  with  part  of 
your  family  each  year,  as  long  as  I  shall  be  with  you.  My 
prayers  might  be  quickened  and  encouraged  atleasl,  which 
is  almost  ail  in  my  power:  and,  as  ray  staying  at  home  saves 
expense,  I  might  contribute  to  that  of  your  journey." 

As  my  object  is,  to  display  fully  the  spirit  of  him  concerning 
whom  I  write,  I  make  no  apology  for  such  familiar  extracts: 
and  I  apply  the  same  remark  to  that  which  follows  from  a 
letter  of  my  sister's. 

"May  2;£,  1816»  I  think  we  should  breakthrough  almost 
any  inconveniences  for  the  benetit  and  pleasure  of  our  dear 
lather's  company.  AlasI  we  .  must  not  expect  this  high 
privilege  long.  Let  us  enjoy  and  improve  it,  v/hile  we 
possess  it!  He  preached  a  most  affecting  sermon  on  Thurs- 
day from,  /  am  in  a  strait  betwixt  too,  c^c.  The  description 
of  heavenly  happiness  was,  I  think,  superior  to  any  thing  I 
ever  heard  or  read:  and  at  the  same  time  he  made  life  ap- 
pear more  desirable  than  I  ever  before  felt  it. — I  must  own 
I  was  disposed,  hke  you,  to  be  very  averse  to  a  new  pupil 
at  Aston;  but  his  commg  was  entirely  my  father's  own  pro- 
posal. He  wished  it  so  much,  that  neither  my  mother  nor 
myself  could  oppose  it." 

Hence  it  appears  that,  though  my  father  had  for  some 
time  been  relieved  from  the  care  of  the  missionary  stu- 
dents, he  had  not  quite  given  up  the  labor  of  preparing 
young  men  for  the  church. — On  the  subject  of  this  addi- 
tional pupil  he  says,  "My  new  pupil  does  not  teaze  me;  for  I 
am  competent  to  teach  him.  My  old  one  teazes  me  more, 
for  I  cannot  keep  before  him.  But  I  feel  much  comfort 
in  the  hope,  that  great  good  may  hereafter  accrue  from  each 
of  them  being  so  unexpectedly  brought  under  my  roof." 

Soon  after  this  I  visited  Aston,  as  my  father  had  desired, 
with  part  of  my  family,  and  had  the  pain  of  finding  my 
brother's  family  in  distress,  from  the  death  of  an  infant 
daughter,  which  had  taken  place  at  my  sister's  house,  a 
few  miles  from  Aston.  I  mention  these  circumstances  for 
the  purpose  of  introducing  a  note  of  my  father's,  which, 
though  very  hastily  written,  I  think  worthy  of  insertion. 

"June  31,  1816.  I  neither  object  to,  nor  care  about,  in- 
terment in  the  church,  or  church-yard:  but  I  make  al- 
lowance for  the  feelings  of  others.  I  never  mean  to  give 
any  directions,  in  this  respect^  about  my  own  funeral If 


1813—1821.]         TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  303 

the  dear  babe  is  to  be  interred  here,  I  shall  vastly  prefer 
performing  the  service  myself;  and  should  take  occasion 
to  speak  on  the  subject;  and  I  really  could  zvish  (though  I 
stop  there,)  that  you  and  Euphemia  too  would  be  present, 
as  something  miglit  be  said  profitable  to  all,  and  comfortable 
too. — An  old  flishioned  man,  1  feel  no  approbation  of  the 
fashion  of  near  relations  absenting  themselves  from  the 
funeral.  I  think,  instead  of  preventing  the  effects  of  grief, 
it  is  shrinking  from  that  which  soon  would  tend  to  comfort: 
and  it  gives  others  an  idea,  that  we  are  afraid  of  looking  the 
matter  full  in  the  face,  so  to  speak. — Depend  upon  it,  this 
loss  of  a  babe,  who  never  actually  sinned,  and  is  doubtless 
interested  in  the  covenant,  will  eventually  (though  exqui- 
sitely painful  ar  present,)  be  the  source  of  future  sweetness. 
-She  is  gone  to  join  her  grandmother,  and  her  aunt  and  two 
uncles  (that  would  have  been,)  &c.;  and  1  feel  a  peculiar 
comfort  in  thinking  that  i  have  another  descendent  in  hea- 
ven, whom  I  shall  shortly  join. — But  enough!" 

In  the  course  of  my  visit  he  made  the  following  contribu- 
tion to  a  letter  to  his  eldest  grand-child. 

"July  25,  1816.  From  the  letters  which  you  write,  I  am 
disposed  to  think  of  you,  and  write  to  you,  as  becoming  now 
a  woman,  not  as  a  child.  God  "has  very  bountifully  dealt 
with  you,  in  hie  providpnrn,  in  g-iving"  you  a  sound  and  good 
understanding,  and  very  valuable  opportunities  of  cultivat- 
ing it;  which,  duly  improved,  will  do  more  for  your  respect- 
ability and  comfort  in  this  present  life,  than  either  riches, 
or  those  showy  accomplishments,  which  you  see,  and  per- 
haps are  tempted  to  envy,  in  some  of  the  children  of  your 
superiors.  But  to  be  ca{)able  of  doing  something  useful  for 
ourselves  and  others  is  a  far  better  preparation  for  the  fu- 
ture, than  the  habits  of  a  genteel  and  useless  life.  Learn 
something  every  day.  Every  young  person  who  knows  how 
to  do  something  in  the  evening,  which  was  unknown  in  the 
morning,  has  made  an  acquisition  which  nothing  can  take 
from  him,  or  her,  except  by  incapacitating  either  body  or 
rnmd  lor  its  functions. — But  you  have  a  far  more  important 
advantage  afforded  you,  in  the  religious  instructions  and 
example  set  before  you,  and  the  many  fervent  prayers 
poured  out  for  you;  and  in  all  your  great  privileges  in  this 
respect.  But  be  sure,  my  dear  Jane,  do  not  rest  in  these 
things;  nor  in  notions,  nor  decency  of  conduct,  nor  in  a  form 
ol  religion.  Be  all  hi  earnest  in  secret  prayer,  and  often  in 
meditation  on  what  you  hear  and  read,  and  comparing  all 
with  the  scriptures.     Beg  of  God  for  bis   special  convertiu«- 


304  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  XV. 

grace,  to  change  your  heart,  and,  as  it  were,  to  graft  the 
tree,  that  it  may  bring  forih  good  fruit.  O  consider  your 
soul— eternity— judgment:  consider  the  anxious  desires,  and 
prayers,  and  hopes,  and  fears  of  your  dear  parents  on  your 
account.  What  delight  will  it  give  them,  to  be  satisfied  that 
you  have  chosen  the  good  part  which  shall  never  be  taken 
from  you!  how  will  itbe  abundajit  in  many  thanksgivings  to 
God;  and  rejoice  their  hearts  under  every  difficulty!  How- 
would  it  gladden  my  heart,  under  all  my  infirmities,  to  hear 
of  it  before  I  die!  What  a  blessing  would  you  then  be  to 
your  brothers  and  sistersl  /  will  bless  thee^and  thou  shalt  be 
a  blessing.  May  God  bless  these  hints!  May  he  bless  you, 
and  them  all!" 

The  impression  made  upon  mj  own  mind  by  what  I  wit- 
nessed, I  could  not  forbear  thus  expressing  in  the  same  let- 
ter: "How  exciting  is  it  to  see  him,  amid  infirmities  and  in- 
disposition, so  elevated  in  mind,  rousing  and  animating  all 
about  him,  in  a  manner  quite  sublime.  How  delightful  is 
such  a  latter  end!" 

Mtev  hearing  of  our  safe  arrival  at  home,  he  wrote  as 
follows: 

"August  23, 1 8 1 6.  When  we  consider  what  may  happen, 
and  is  continually  happening,  we  ought  to  regard  these 
(safe  journies,  &c.)  as  calls  lor  cheerful  gratitude;  and,  ia 
such  a  world  as  this,  (made  such  by  sin,  of  which  our  sins 
form  their  full  proportion,)  we  ought  to  be  always  on  the 
look-out  tor  something  to  cheer  us,  and  to  excite  gratitude 
to  God,  and  confidence  in  him  for  the  future.  We  should 
determine,  an<l  pray  to  be  enabled,  to  dwell  on  the  bright 
side  of  the  Lord's  dealings  with  us,  and  dispensations  towards 
us,  and  towards  all  connected  with  us: — with  how  many  un- 
merited mercies  we  are  favored,  and  from  how  many  de- 
served evils  we  are  exempted: — and  we  should  carefullj 
turn  away  our  thoughts  from  the  dark  side,  as  it  appears  to 
us;  only  considering  who  and  what  we  are,  have  been,  and 
have  done,  that  we  may  wonder  and  be  astonished,  that 
things  are  so  well  with  us  as  they  are. — The  same  reflect 
tions,  extended  to  our  whole  apostate  race,  would  lead  us 
rather  to  admire  that  the  earth  is  so  full  of  the  goodness 
of  the  Lord,  than  that  it  is  so  full  of  sorrow  and  suffering. 

^'I,  also,  felt  low  and  gloomy  for  some  time  after  you  leit 
us:  but  I  afterwards  rejoiced  that  I  had  been  favored  to  see 

you  and  yours   once   more,  &c.  Gen.  xlviii,  8 — 11 You. 

lay  too  much  stress  on  place   and  distance.     Wh^n  further 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  305 

advanced  in  the  school  in  which  St.  Paul  was  taught  con- 
tentment, you  will  rise  above  all  this;  and  you  should  en- 
deavor to  do  it  now 

"Tenderness  of"  conscience  (a  healthy  state)  degenerates, 
in  many  instances,  into  a  morbid  sensibility,  so  that  the  con- 
sciousness of  rising  sinful  thoughts  and  desires  mixing  with 
more  pure  motives,  while  it  ought  to  produce  humiliation^ 
proves  also  the  source  of  dejection;  as  if  there  were  any 
saint  on  earth,  or  ever  had  been,  who  was  wholly  delivered 
from  these  things:  or  as  if  it  could  be  otherwise,  than  that 
the  keener  our  vision,  the  greater  our  watchfulness,  and  the 
deeper  our  hatred  of  every  sin,  the  more  quick  must  be 
this  sensibility,  and   the  more  acute  the  pain  which  attentls 

it,  till  all  sin  be  extinguished We   must  not  stop   at  the 

words,  O  wretched  man  that  I  am^  but  adopt  the  apostle's 
thanksgiving  also,  and  so  accompany  him  to  the  end  of  the 

chapter,  and  forward  into  that  which  follows  it We  may 

expect  too  much  from  our  intercourse  when  we  meet,  and 
thus,  through  the  partial  disappointment,  fail  of  the  comfort 
and  benefit  we  might  otherwise  receive.  It  reminds  me  of 
Mr.  Newton^s  remark:  'If,  when  we  meet  together,  we  ex- 
pect good  from  one  another,  and  not  from  God  hy  means  of 
one  another,  we  resemble  empty  pitchers  attempting  to  fill 
each  other.' — As  to  myself,  I  am  a  poor  creature,  at  best; 
and  it  cannot  be  long  thai  I  shall  be  able  to  communicate 
even  counsels,  or  words  of  encouragement,  to  you.  You 
must  look  above  me  and  all  others,  to  the  Lord  alone. 
Trials  and  temptations  must  be  struggled  through  by  fre- 
quent, fervent,  wrestling  prayer.  You  must  say,  Truly  my 
soul  waiteth  upon  God;  from  him  cometh  my  salvation., 
(Psalm  Ixii,  1,  2,  5—8.)  When  Mr.  Newton  left  Olney,  I 
s^eemed  to  have  lost  my  counsellor:  but,  carrying  my  difficul- 
ties immediately  to  the  Lord,  1  believe  1  was  eventually  no 
loser." 

A  few  months  after,  he  was  called  again  to  address  his 
northern  correspondent  on  a  melancholy  occasion, — the 
death  of  a  married  daughter.  He  expresses  deep  sympathy 
with  her,  but  deeper  still  with  the  bereaved  husband:  yet 
excuses  himself  from  writmg  to  him.  "1  always,"  he  savs, 
"look  upon  the  loss  of  a  beloved  and  suitable  wife,  as  one 
of  the  greatest  afllictions  that  can  be  endured  upon  earth. 
Were  he  therefore  ever  so  nearly  related  to  me,  and  ac- 
quainted personally,  1  should  find  more  didiculty  and  in- 
competency in  writing  on  the  subject,  than  on  almost  any 
•      *26 


306  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  XV- 

other Even  faith,  and  prayer  for   submission,  will  not 

produce  their  full  elfect,  in  calming  and  reconciling  the 
mind,  till  time,  gliding  on,  has,  so  to  speak,  abated  the  ir- 
ritation of  the  painful  wound I  am   obliged  to  you    for 

your  particular  account  of  your  children,  as  it  is  suited  to  di- 
rect my  prayers  for  them:  but  1    must  not    engage  in    any 

fresh  correspondence They  have  the  means  of  grace, 

&c Prayer,  connected  with    occasional   converse  with 

them  on  the  concerns  of  their  souls,  (not  too  frequent,)  with 
a  general  tenor  of  discourse  and  conduct  impressing  their 
consciences  that  you  deeply  mean  all  you  say^  are  your  part. 
My  children  generally  say,  that  what  I  spoke  to  others,  iu 
their  presence,  on  religious  subjects,  impressed  them  more, 
than  when  1  directly,  as  it  were  preached  to  them. — The 
Lord  has  been  very  gracious  to  you  in  respect  to  several  of 
them:  while  you  thank  him  tor  them,  it  will  encourage 
prayer  for  the  others;  and  at  length  you  may  perhaps  live 
to  see  the  kst  brought  home:  or  you  may  join  with  the  in- 
habitants of  heaven  in  rejoicing  over  the  repentance  of  that 
one  or  more,  whom  you  wept  and  prayed  over,  as  uncon- 
verted and  impenitent,  while  you  lived  on  earth. J  feel 

considerable  interest  in  your  iiamily  and  connexions.  These 
seem  a  plantation  in  a  far  country,  springing  up  from  seed 
which  I  was  the  instrument  of  sowing  at  Weston-Underwood; 
and  which  1  have  since  done  but  little  to  tend  and  water.  I 
have  great  cause  for  thankl'ulness  in  this  and  very  many  re- 
spects, that  God  hath  made,  and  is  making  me,  an  instru- 
ment of  good  to  others.  Pray  for  me,  that  1  may  hnish  my 
course  with  joy,  for  I  am  still  a  poor,  weak,  sinful  creature." 

His  only  surviving  sister,  Mrs.  Webster,  was  now  far  ad- 
vanced in  years,  and  laboring  under  increased  infirmitiesj 
which  drew  from  him  repeated  portions  of  letters,  strongly 
expressive  of  sympathy,  and  adapted  to  her  situation. 

'^Decembers,  1815.  It  is  of  liftie  use  to  retrace  the 
past,  except  for  the  purposes  of  exercising  humihation  for 
what  we  have  done  wrong,  and  gratitude  for  God's  unmerit- 
ed and  numerous  mercies:  and,  amidst  all  our  pains,  and 
sorrows,  and  infirmities,  comparing  all  the  Lord's  dealings 
with  us  with  our  own  deservings,  we  must  still  say.  Surely 
goodness  and  mercy  have  followed  me  all  the  days  of  my  life: 
and,  if  we  can  add,  /  shall  dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lprdfor- 
ever,  we  may  well  say,  It  is  enough:  I  have  waited  for  thy 
salvation  O  Lord!  The  apostle,  who  had  his  full  share  of 
tabulations  from  every  quarter,  exhorts  the  Thessalonians, 


1813—1821.]       TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  307 

no  doubt  from  the  feelings  of  his  own  heart,  Pray  without 
ceasing;  in  every  thing  give  thanks;  for  this  is  the  will  of  God 
in  Christ  Jesus  concerning  you.  As  to  the  past,  except  as  the 
effects  of  it  remain,  and  the  account  must  be  given,  it  has  no 
existence.  Like  an  uneasy  night,  it  is  over,  and  the  un- 
easiness with  it.  As  to  the  future,  it  may  never  arrive,  and 
all  our  cares  and  contrivances  about  it  are  vain.  It  is  true 
that  we  must  die,  and,  at  our  time  of  life,  and  with  our  many 
intirmities,  it  must  be  ere  long:  but  all  the  preceding  and 
concurring  circumstances  are  wholly  unknown  to  us,  and 
we  ought  not,  for  a  moment^  to  be  solicitous  about  them. 
What  we  at  present  suffer,  or  enjoy,  or  hope  for,  with  every 
alleviation  or  aggravation  of  suffering,  is  all  which  belongs 
to  us.  The  morrow  shall  take  thought  for  the  things  of  itself: 
sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.  The  whole  is  in  the 
hands  of  Him,  who  hath  loved  hi?i  people.,  and  redeemed  them 
to  God  with  his  blood.  He  hath  the  keys  of  death  and  the  un- 
seen world.  Precious  in  his  sight  is  the  death  of  his  saints.  May 
we  be  numbered  among  them  in  glory  everlasting!  Let  us 
only  aim  to  be  ever  ready,  and  give  diligence  to  be  found  of 
hhn  in  peace,  without  spot  and  blameless;  and  then,  when 
death  comes  to  remove  us,  we  may  hope,  as  it  were,  to 
hear  the  Savior  say,  Jt  is  /,  be  not  afraid.'''' 

Sentences  hke  these,  from  one  who  was  then  daily  walk- 
ing on  the  borders  o{  the  dark  valley.,  and  has  since  passed 
through  it,  acquire  a  sort  of  consecrated  character.  He 
was  himself  in  the  circumstances,  against  which  he  endeav- 
ored to  support  a  beloved  sister:  and  hence  what  he  utters 
carries  with  it  a  force,  which  the  same  words  from  the  lipa 
of  a  mere  theorist  could  never  possess. 

To  the  same,  January  15,  1817.  "I  have  no  special  ad- 
vice to  give:  and  it  is  only  the  old  over  again,  to  preach 
patience,  meekness,  &;c.  Let  patience  have  its  perfect  work, 
*  that  ye  may  be  perfect  and  entire,  wanting  nothing.  All  our 
comforts,  alleviations,  and  hopes,  are  mercy:  all  our  sor- 
rows far  less  than  we  deserve.  Why  then  should  a  living 
man  complain?  As  Mr.  Newton  used  to  say,  A  sinner  has  no 
right,  and. a  saint  has  no  reason — for  all  things  are  working  to- 
gether for  his  good.  And  God  has  a  right  to  correct  us  by 
what  rod  it  pleaseth  him.  Submission,  unreserved  submis- 
sion, is  not  only  the  most  reasonable  thing  imaginable,  but 
the  most  calming,  consoling  state  of  mind  in  this  vale  of 
tears;  and  produces  the  happiest  effects  on  Ourselves  and 
ail  around  us;  especially  when    accompanied    with  daily 


308  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  XT. 

earaest  prayer  for  those,  in  particular,  whom  we  regard  as 

most  instnimental  in  occasioning,  or  causing,  our  trials 

May  God  bless  you  and  all  your's.  As  it  seems  now  decid- 
ed that  we  shall  see  each  other  no  more  on  earth,  may  we 
be  daily  more  ready  for  a  joyful  meeting,  very  soon,  in 
heaven!" 

In  the  autumn  of  1816,  he  speaks  of  having  made  ar- 
rangements for  more  vigorously  prosecuting  his  Index  and 
Concordance,  at  the  request  of  the  proprietors  of  his  Com- 
mentary: and  in  March  1817,  after  mentioning  his  second 
letter  to  the  Rev,  Peter  Roe,  on  religious  establishments, 
(which  was  noticed  above,)  he  says,  "I  have  finished  my 
new  edition  of  the  Remarks.  You  will,  in  the  concluding 
sheets,  see,  that  I  have  undertaken  to  publish  a  translation 
of  the  Articles  of  the  Synod  of  Dort,  and  all  that  respects 
them.  I  scarcelj^  ever  read  more  sound  divinitj':  yet  too 
much  is  aimed  at.  I  shall  annex  a  few  notes  and  references; 
and  point  out  what  I  judge  to  be  right,  and  what  wrong,  in 
the  whole  business. — By  the  way,  the  Sylloge  (.  onfessiommi, 
printed  at  Oxford,  is  a  book  well  worth  reading  through- 
out." 

Three  months  afterwards  he  says  again:  "I  hope  to  form 
a  multifarious  and  useful  pamphlet  on  the  Synod  of  Dort. 
I  mean  to  make  it  a  vehicle  of  my  sentiments  on  a  variety 
of  subjects  on  which  I  should  never  otherwise  have  spoken 
out."  The  proposed  work  was  completed  in  the  spring  of 
1318,  and  published  in  a  small  octavo  volume. 

The  month  of  November,  1817,  will  be  long  remember- 
ed, as  having  inflicted  upon  the  heart  of  the  whole  nation  a 
deeper  pang  of  disappointment  and  regret,  by  the  death  of 
that  illustrious  princess  in  whom  all  our  hopes  had  centered, 
than  was  perhaps  ever  felt  on  any  like  occasion.  This 
event  claims  to  be  noticed  here,  not  only  as  having  drawn 
forth  another  publication  from  my  fathers  pen, — a  funeral 
sermon  entitled,  "The  Voice  of  God  to  Britain," — but  for 
the  fresh  discovery  which  is  made  of  the  tenderness  of  his 
heart,  and  his  lively  interest  in  the  public  welfare.  1  shall 
transcribe  two  short  extracts  of  letters  on  this  subject. 

"December  1,  1817.  Your  father  preached  on  the  Sun- 
day a  Yery  affecting  sermon  from  1  Pet.  i,  22 — 25;  and  shed 
more  tears  in  the  pulpit,  than  ever  I  saw  him  do  before.... 
On  the  Wednesday  (the  day  of  the  funeral)  we  had  a  very 
crowded  congregation,  and  he  preached  again,  from  Micah 
vi,  9,  a  sermon  which  is  now  in  the  press." 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  3Q9 

December  12,  from  my  sister: — "I  never  saw  my  dear 
father  so  overwhelmed  by  any  calamity,  nor  so  ready  to  an- 
ticipate evil.  His  spirits  are  however  now  revived  in  some 
measure,  and   he  seems  gratiiied  by  the  manner  in  which 

the  nation  at  large  has  received  the    chastisement Hi* 

sermons  on  the   Sunday  after  he  received  the  news  were 
the  most  affecting,"  (more  so  than  the  printed  one,  preach- 
ed on  the  day  of  the    funeral) — "distressingly  so  indeed. 
He   was  so  overpowered  by  his  feelings,  that  it  was  with 
the  utmost  difficulty  he  proceeded. — They  say  age  chills 
the  affections,  but  this  is  not  the  case  with  him.     He  is  all 
tenderness  and  sympathy — daily,  indeed,  becoming  more 
like  Christ.     I  sometimes  feel  alarmed  at  seeing  him  ripea 
so  fast  for  glory.     Oh  that  we  might  catch  some  portion  ot^ 
his  spirit  before  he  is  taken  from  us!" 

The   commencement  of  the  year  1818  introduces  us  to 
what  furnished  the  principal  employment  of  his  remaining 
days — the  preparation  of  a  new  edition  of  his  Bible,  to  be 
printed  in  stereotype,  and  therefore  to  receive  his  last  cor- 
rections and  improvements.     He  thus  writes,  March  3d:  "I 
have  gone  through  the  winter  months  (which  have  been  re- 
markably mild,)  better  than  I  could  have  expected.     1  have 
had  but   little   fever:    one  Sunday  I  was  laid  by;  but  I  wa*^ 
better  iii  a  short  tune.     I  am  however  very  infirm,  and  in 
almost  constant  pain,  though  not  acute,  in  my  teeth   and 
elsewhere:  yet  I  am  still  as  fully  employed  in  my  study  as 
ever;  and  am  able  to  preach  at  my  church,  I  hope  not  quite 
in  vain... ...I  wish  to  explain  to  you  what  has  been  done,  and 

is  doing,  about  reprinting  the  exposition  of  the  Bible.  As  I 
was  not  employed  about  the  last  edition,  1  had  no  expecta- 
tion that  I  should  have  any  more  to  do  with  another,  and 
only  hoped  that  my  rather  corrected  copy  would  be  taken 
to  print  from.  Nor  was  I  aware  that  a  new  edition  was  in 
present  contemplation."  He  then  states  that  another  was 
proposed,  iu  be  brought  out  in  the  course  of  two  years  and 
a  half;  that  a  young  man,  long  an  inmate  with  him,  had 
been  applied  to,  to  conduct  it  through  the  press;  and  that  ha 
himself,  judging  that,  "for  an  edition  which  should  be  the 
standard  of  the  work  as  long  as  it  may  exist,  it  was  highly 
desirable  that  he  should,  as  far  as  life  and  mental  powers 
were  spared,  superintend  the  revisal,"  he  had  been  induced 
to  undertake  this  service.  "Since  this  was  settled,"  he 
proceeds,  "the  partners  have  come  to  a  determination  to 
»rtereotype  the  work;  which  certainly  is  gratifying  to  me," 


310  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE      [Chap.  Xy. 

— Still  this  new,  and,  as  it  proved,  very  laborious  employ- 
ment, was  not-  in  his  intention,  to  supersede,  nor  did  it  for 
some  time,  in  fact,  supersede  his  preparation  of  the  pro- 
posed Concordance  and  Index. — "It  will  not  be  long,"  he 
says,  "ere  they  are  finished:  within  the  course  of  the  sum- 
mer, if  I  am  preserved." 

In  Jul}',  he  says  on  the  same  subject,  "I  have  now  come 
to  a  determination  to  devote  every  evening  to  revision  for 
the  new  edition  of  the  Bible;  and  more  of  my  time,  if  re- 
<^uired,  and  as  I  am  able.  I  have  brought  my  revision  so 
flir,  as  to  have  nearly  settled  all  the  pomts  for  consideration, 

in  what  I  had  previously  looked  over It  is  evident  that  I 

have  fallen  into  some  inaccuracies  in  what  1  before  ventured 
on  critical  points,  and  most  of  what  is  now  attempted  will 
be  new,  but   well  weighed,  if  I   live." 

In  October  he  adds,  "I  am  so  engaged  in  preparing  copy, 
correcting  proofs,  &c.  for  the  new  edition  of  the  Bible,  that 
I  can  do  little  towards  completing  my  Concordance." 

On  the  last  day  of  May,  this  year,  he  wrote  the  follow- 
ing deeply  Christian  and  affecting  letter  to  his  Northumbrian 
correspondent,  who  was  mourning  the  loss  of  a  son. 

"May  31,  1818.  I  received  your  very  sorrowful  letter, 
and  C5in  truly  say,  that  I  sympathize  with  you  in  your  sor- 
row, and  do  pray  that  the  Lord  may  comfort  you  imatu  u, 
and  not  only  so,  but  greatly  sanctify  it  to  your  soul.  In  or- 
der to  this,  I  shall  make  a  tew  remarks  on  the  subject,  the 
result  of  much  reflection  on  the  state  of  this  suffering  dying 
world,  and  on  the  instructions  of  scripture  in  this  particu- 
lar.— All  our  affections  and  passions  ought  to  be  subordi- 
nated to  the  love  of  God,  and  obedience  to  his  will;  and 
regulated  accordingly:  so  that  the  indulgence  of  sorrozi)  is 
as  contrary  to  our  duty,  as  the  indulgence  of  anger^  though 
more  plausible,  and  deemed  more  amiable;  and  therefore 
less  generally  and  strenuously  resisted.  We  are  no  more 
warranted  to  say,  'I  do  well  to  be  sorrowful,'  (that  is,  to 
indulge  sorrow,)  than  /  do  zvell  to  be  angry.  God 
appoints  the  event:  he  is  wise,  righteous,  faithful,  and  mer- 
ciful; and  we  deserve  far  worse  t>om  him.  His  appoint- 
ment is  far  different  from  our  inclination,  or  affection;  but 
then  we  are  foolish,  partial,  wayward,  selfish.  Whether 
then  is  right,  his  appointment  or  our  inclination?  The  form- 
er, doubtless:  and,  if  so,  indulged  sorrow  is  in  fact  rebellion 
against  that  appointment;  and  as  such  should  be  watched, 
and  striven,  and  prayed  against,  %vith  all  earnestness. — The 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  311 

Lord  hath  taken  away  from  us  a  beloved  object;  the  desire 
of  our  eyes  with  a  stroke:  but,  is  He  not  all-sufficient?  does 
He  not  yet  live?  is  He  not  an  unchangeable  good?  Surely  we 
should  not  say,  what  have  I  more?  He,  that  made  the  be- 
loved object  a  comibrt  to  us,  is  able  to  comfort  us  without 
it,  immediately,  or  through  other  channels. — 'But,  I  must 
love  my  child,  and  mourn  his  loss.'  Yes,  yet  with  submis- 
sion: you  must  not  love  your  child  more  than  Christ;  nor 
will  you,  if  you  be,  as  I  trust,  his  disciple.  Here  your 
love  and  natural  affection  must  be  subordinated;  else  it  will 
appear,  that,  in  taking  away  the  beloved  object,  he  hath  in 
fact  taken  away  an  idol. — 'But  I  am  not  fully  satisfied  as  to 
his  soul.'  Weil  then,  there  were  hopeful  tokens,  on  which 
to  stay  your  mind.  But  if  it  had  not  been  so;  think  of 
Eli's  two  sons,  and  how,  when  their  doom  was  denounced, 
he  said.  It  is  the  Lord^  let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good. 
And  he  bore  the  tidings  of  their  death;  but  when  it  was 
added,  the  ark  of  God  is  taken,  he  fell  and  died. — Think  of 
David's  beloved  Absalom;  and  observe  that  his  strongly 
marked  expressions  of  sorrow  are  universally  condemned, 
as  rebellious  and  ungrateful.  Think  of  the  manner  in 
which  Job's  numerous  family  was  at  once  cut  off;  and  of  his 
jealousy,  lest  in  their  feasting  they  should  sin  against  God: 
yet  hear  him  say.  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord.  In  all  this  Job  sin- 
ned not.  I  question  whether  Job  was  more  satisfied  as 
to  the  state   of  any  of  his  children's  souls,  than  you  are 

about  your  son's.     Think   of  dear  Lady :  her 

eldest  son  executed  as  a  murderer;  a  hardened  wretch,  till 
the  last  hour:  the  only  hope  this,  that,  in  his  rage  in  casting 
himself  off,  the  rope  broke,  and  he  lived  till  another  was 
fetched, — perhaps  ten  minutes* — and  seemed  during  that 
space  softened,  and  earnestly  crying  for  mercy:  yet  I  never 
heard  from  her  lips  a  murmuring  word. — 1  mention  these 
things  to  shew,  that  your  trial  is  far  less  than  many  of  God's 
most  beloved  children  have  suffered:  and  to  encourage 
your  hope  that,  by  his  all-sufficient  grace,  you  may  be  com- 
forted and  made  joyful,  notwithstanding;  as  they  were. 

"While  our  children  or  relations  live,  we  cannot  be  too 
earnest  in  seeking  their  salvation;  in  using  every  means,  and 
in  pouring  out  our  prayers  incessantly  for  it;  and  in  enforc- 

•  I  believe,  at  his  own  earnest  request,  the  time  was  extended  to  one 
•r  two  hours. 


312  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE       [Chap.  XY. 

ii)g  all  by  our  example:  but,  when  they  are  removed,  as  our 
duty,  and  our  ability  to  help  them  finally  terminate,  our  sor- 
row and  anxiety,  and  inquiries  about  their  state,  must  be 
unavailing,  and  are  very  apt  to  be  rebellious. — It'  consciouf 
of  having  done  what  we  could,  upon  the  whole,  for  their 
final  good;  and  of  seeking  for  them,  as  well  as  ourselves, 
FIRST  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness;  this  should 
be  a  source  of  thankfulness  and  consolation.  If  conscious 
of  having  neglected  our  duty,  we  are  called  on  deeply  to 
repent  and  earnestly  to  seek  forgiveness.  If  there  were 
hopeful  tokens,  we  should  be  thankful  for  these;  and  leave 
the  rest  to  God.  If  we  still  anxiously  inquire,  as  if  we  could 
not  submit,  without  some  further  assurance  of  their  happi- 
ness; we  should  consider'this  as  presumption  and  rebellion. 
God  withholds,  and  submission  is  our  duty.  Jesus,  as  it  were, 
says.  What  is  that  to  theeF  follow  thou  me. — Shall  not  the  Judge 
of  all  the  earth  do  right?  May  we  not  leave  them  to  his  ten- 
der and  infinite  mercies? — But  these  considerations  should 
excite  us  to  re(Joubled  diligence  and  earnestness  about  those 
who  are  still  with  us.  Even  in  such  cases  as  those  of  Eli'g 
sons  and  Absalom,  unreserved  submission  is  both  the  duty 
and  the  wisdom  of  the  deeply  afflicted  sufferer.  I  can  only 
add,  that  you  must  watch  and  pray  against  inordinate  sor- 
row, as  your  sin  and  your  misery;  and  seek  for  resignation, 
submission,  and  acquiescence  in  the  divine  appointment:  and 
never  cease  praying  for  this,  till  you  can  unreservedly  say, 
The  'will  of  the  Lord  be  done! ....  May  God  be  your  com- 
forter, and  lift  up  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon  you, 
and  give  you  peace! ....        I  remain,  your's  affectionately, 

Thomas  Scott." 

About  midsummer,  I  received  the  following  accounts  of 
him,  and  observations  from  him. 

From  my  sister.  "My  father  grows  very  infirm,  but 
becomes  more  heavenly  every  day.  It  is  a  privilege  to  see 
and  hear  him.  He  has  been  lately  attending  a  poor  parish- 
ioner, who  died  of  a  fiver  complaint.  It  was  a  very  painful 
death,  as  to  bodily  suffering;  but  I  think  the  most  blessed 
and  encouraging  scene  I  ever  witnessed.  Visiting  him  iij 
his  illness  has  been  quite  a  cordial  to  my  dear  father;  the 
greatest  treat,  he  says,  he  has  enjoyed  for  years." 

From  himself  "1  shall  never  see  many  of  my  grand  chil- 
dren; and  my  deafness  and  infirmity  spoil  all  the  comfort  of 
their  compavw,  when  I  do  see  any  of  them:  but  my  more 
thap  daily  prayers,  from  my  inmost  soul,  are  presented  to 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNfeSS,  313 

God  for  them,  that  they  may  be  blessed  and  a  blessing;  in 
whatever  place  and  family  they  may  spend  their  futurel 
lives." — "One  advantag^e,  however,  arises  from  our  occa 
sional  meetings;  they  certainly  excite  me  to  more  particular 
and  earnest  prayers  for  you  all,  especially  for  your  spiritual 
good." 

I  would  observe,  that  much  as  he  thought  his  company 
must  be  spoiled,  especially  to  young  persons,  by  his  intirm* 
ities,  I  always  found  it  otherwise:  he  seemed  peculiarly  at- 
tractive to  my  children,  even  to  very  young  ones;  and  they 
would  spend  as  much  time  with  him  as  could  be  allowed. 

To  his  youngest  son  he  wrote  at  this  time, 

"June  14,  1818.  "1  can  sympathize  with  you  in  your 
pains  of  teeth,  &c.  as  I  am  never  free  from  pains  of  the 
same  kind;  nor  shall  be  so  long  as  I  have  one  left;  probably 
not  then.  My  pain,  however,  is  not  very  acute;  though  it 
makes  eating  always  uncomfortable,  often  distressing:  but  in 
my  case  the  disease  is,  I  believe,  incurable,  and  merely  one 
of  the  symptoms  of  decaying  nature:  and  why  should  a  living 
man  complain?  M^  mercies  and  my  sins  are  both  number- 
less; and  1  am  often  quite  ashamed  of  my  impatience,  cow- 
ardice,  and  unthankfulness We  are  all  about  as  well  as 

usual;  and  I  have  much  more  encouragement  in  my  minisr 
try  at  this  place,  than  1  had  some  time  back:  considerable 
good  seems  to  be  done.  Let  us  then  strengthen  and  encour- 
age our  own  hearts,  and  one  another's,  to  persevere  in  the 
blessed  work  of  our  Lord,  though  appearances  be  discour- 
aging. As  I  am  soon  to  put  off  my  armor,  let  me  animate 
you  to  gird  on  your's  with  more  alacrity;  to  stir  up  the  gift 
of  God  that  is  in  you;  and  to  do  what  you  can.  Take  heed 
to  yourself  and  to  the  doctrine:  continue  in  them:  for  in  so  do- 
ing thou  shalt  both  save  thyself  and  them  that  hear  thee. — Give 
our  united  love  to  dear  Anne,  and  the  dear  children,  one 
and  all.  May  God  bless  thein^  and  make  them  blessings!  As 
I  decrease^  may  you  and  your  brothers  increase:  and  when 
you  decrease,  may  your  children  all  come  forward  and  in- 
crease, in  one  way  or  other  serving  the  Lord,  and  promot- 
ing his  tause  in  the  world;  and  this  ijrom  generation  to  gen- 
eration. This  is  the  daily  prayer  of  your  affectionate  father." 

Dr.  Chalmer's  Farewell  Address  to  the  Inhabitants  of 
Kilmany  having  excited  some  controversy,  in  certain  peri- 
odical publications,  on  account  of  the  manner  in  which  it 
presses  particular  practical  duties,  from  the  very  com- 
mencement of  a  serious  attention  to  religion^  without  wait- 
27 


316  BISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE      [Chaf.  X?, 

upon  unfinished  work.  In  waiting  for  the  day  which  ^'■shall 
declare"  the  result  of  things — "here  is  the  patience  and 
the  faith  of  the  saints." 

As  an  additional  instance  of  probable  usefulness,  he  had, 
about  this  time,  the  satisfaction  of  hearing,  that  his  'Force  of 
Truth,'  translated  into  French,  was  widely  circulating  on  the 
continent.  It  had  been  translated  into  Dutch  many  years 
before,  and  printed  at  Amsterdam  in  1786. 

I  meet  with  nothing  further  that  is  memorable  till  No- 
vember the  third,  of  this  year,  (1818,)  when  he  wrote  the 
last  letter,  which  I  shall  have  to  present,  to  his  now  aged 
and  afflicted  sister,  Mrs.  Webster.  It  exhibits  an  interesting 
proof  of  his  own  "growth  in  grace,"  and  of  his  zeal  to 
strengthen  the  hands  of  a  beloved  fellow  sufferer. 

"1  find,"  he  says,  "in  my  own  case,  though  in  many  re- 
spects surrounded  with  uncommon  mercies,  that  I  have 
great  need  of  patience,  amidst  infirmities,  and  pains,  and, 
worse  than  all,  temptations,  and  conflicts  with  the  remain- 
der (I  hope  only  the  remainder)  of  indwelling  sin:  so  that  I 
am  often  disposed  to  dejection,  and  consequently  to  impa- 
tience and  unthankfulness,  and  sometimes  peevishness.  Yet, 
on  the  whole,  I  think  my  trials  and  conflicts  quicken  me  in 
prayer:  endear  the  Savior  and  salvation  to  me;  render  me 
more  tender  and  compassionate  to  others,  wben  suffering 
and  tempted;  bring  me  more  acquainted  with  the  promises 
and  engagements  oi'  the  new  covenant,  and  lead  me  to  rely 
on  them  more  simply  and  unreservedly,  notwithstanding 
difficulties  and  discouragements.  As  Mr.  Newton  once  said 
to  an  inquirer,  '1  think  I  am  somewhat  poorer  than  I  was,' 
And,  while  J  encourage  m3'^self  in  this  way  in  the  Lord  my 
God,  and  hope,  in  opposition  to  my  feelings,  (as  if  all  were 
against  me,)  that  all  is  zvorking  together  for  my  good;  what 
can  I  say  more  appropriate  to  animate,  counsel,  and  solace 
you?  You  have  trials,  indeed,  which  1  have  not:  but  the 
fieart  knozveih  its  own  bitterness.  However,  without  deter^' 
mining  any  thing  in  that  respect,  nay,  supposing  jour's  ten 
times  the  greater,  the  difference  is  nothing  to  the  Almighty 
Savior,  whose  strength  is  perfected  in  oiir  zi>eakaess.  Trust 
in  him:  submit:  call  upon  him:  wait  tor  him.  Persevere  in 
endeavoring  to  win  over  all  around  you,  to  say,  We  zvill  go 
with  you,  for  God  is  zmth  you.  1  hope  1  do  not  forget  you 
daily  in  my  prayers,  or  any  of  yoyi;s.  Pray  foi:  me  and 
mine." 


1813—1821.]         TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  S17 

The  accounts  of  his  infirmities  and  of  his  labors, — such 
labors  as  would  be  found  too  great  for  most  men  in  sound 
health,  go  hand  in  hand  together. 

He  writes,  Dec.  10,  1818:  "Preparing  copy,  five  sheets 
(forty  quarto  pages)  a  week,  and  correcting  proofs,  togeth- 
er with  the  desire  of  the  partners  to  have  the  Concordance 
carried  on,  purposing  ere  very  long  to  begin  to  print  it,  (as 
much  approving  the  plan  of  a  revised  specimen  which  I 
sent,)  makes  me  shrink  unduly  from  letter-writing,  /  never 
studied  each  day  more  hours  than  Inow  do.'''' 

"February  l3,  1819.  Never  was  a  manufactory  more 
full  of  constant  employment,  than  our  house:  five  proofs  a 
week  to   correct,  and  as  many  sheets  of  copy   to   prepare: 

and,  alas!  Mr.  seems  to  stand   his   part  as   to   health, 

worse  than  I  do.  The  first  volume  is  nearly  finished,  and 
I  hope  much  improved:  yet  I  feel  more  and  more  dissatis- 
fied, as  discerning  more  and  more  the  defects.  What  I  have 
lately  been  finishing  off,  as  to  tiie  Concordance,  is  fully  ap- 
proved: but  I  can  do  so  little  now,  that  I  fear  it  will  never 
be  finished 

"So  I  have  lived  to  enter  on  my  seventy-third  year, 
which  I  never  expected;  and  am  still  able  to  study  and 
preach.  May  it  be  to  good  purpose!  My  feelings  are  often 
very  uneasy:  but  I  am  free  from  great  and  sharp  suffering. 
Pray  for  me,  that  I  may  be  patient  and  ready." 

April  23,  1819,  to  his  youngest  son: — "Just  when  I  wag 
thinking  to  answer  you,  I  was  seized  with  a  severe  cold, 
which,  after  some  variations,  at  length,  on  the  first  of  this 
month,  brought  on  a  fever:  and  it  proved  a  more  sharp  at- 
tack than  I  have  had  for  some  years.  Nearly  a  week  I  was 
so  far  confined  to  my  bed  as  to  do  nothing.  Two  Sunday* 
I  was  disabled  from  preaching:  and  last  Sunday,  with  great 
difhcuUy,  1  performed  one  service.  I  have  also  recovered 
hitherto  very  slowly,  and  am  continually  harassed  by  sick- 
ness; so  that  I  neither  have  appetite  for  food,  m>r  take  any 
without  fear  of  very  uneasy  consequences.  Yet,  I  have 
gradually  been  restored  to  my  usual  ability  of  studying,  and 
fill  up  my  hours  nearly  as  before;  but  with  increasing  de- 
bility and  weariness.  This,  indeed,  must  be  expected  in 
my  seventy-third  year,  and  I  v/ould  not  complain;  for  surely 
goodness  and  mercy  have  followed  me  all  my  days.  .  .  .  But, 
besides  sickness,  my  employments  are  a  more  full  excuse 
for  not  writing  letters,  than  most  have.  Four  or  five  proof 
sheets  every  week:  on  an  average,  each  costs  one  or  other 
*27 


318  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE      [Chaf.  XV, 

of  us  six  hours  revising:  this  besides  preparing  an  equal 
'  quantity  of  copy,  and  other  engagements.  One,  in  Psalms^ 
that  arrived  last  night,  has  taken  me  up  already  almost  four 
hours,  and  will  take  up  others  of  us  above  three  hours  more. 
But  it  is  a  good,  and  even  pleasant  employment,  and  I  re- 
joice in  it. — Sickness  has  been  very  prevalent  in  this  neigh- 
borhood, especially  typhus  fever:  severalliave  died.  .  .  ► 
Our  little  village  has  been  preserved  from  it.  Some  of  the 
inhabitants  appear  more  hopeful  than  they  were,  and  the 
congregations,  as  well  as  several  instances,  I  hope,  of  con- 
version, have  been  much  more  eneour<ig'ing  than  for  sev- 
eral years  last  past:  but  what  will  take  place  when  I  am 
removed  or  laid  aside,  I  cannot  say.  Many  will,  1  fear, 
turn  dissenters;  and  our  dissenters  are  not  of  the  best  sort. 
But  I  must  commit  the  whole  to  the  Lord.  Establish  thou 
the  work  of  our  hands ^  yea^  the  work  of  our  hands  establish  fJiou 

it! I  would  not  have  you  yield  to  depression  about 

your  public  labors.  If  discouragement  lead  you  to  more 
fervent  prayer,  and  to  devise,  if  you  can,  more  decided  means 
of  coming  at  the  heart  and  conscience;  if  you  take  heed  to 
yourself  and  doctrine,  and  continue  in  them;  your  labor  will 
not  be  in  vain.  You  may  toil  all  nighty  and  take  nothings  but 
after  a  time  you  shall  have  belter  success.  It  seems  that 
Harborough  is  your  present  place:  I  should,  indeed,  rejoice^ 
if  a  more  permanent  station  were  allotted  you Re- 
member, however,  how  much  better  it  is  to  do  a  little  good, 
substantial  good,  than,  by  smooth  and  false  doctrine,  to  ob- 
tain crowded  congregations,  and  do  them  mischief  Proper 
means,  indeed,  should  be  used  to  bring  forth  your  parish- 
ioners; and  perhaps  a  short  printed  adiircss  to  them,  soIemn,^ 
faithful,  aifectionate,  might  be  blessed.  But  our  usefulness 
does  by  no  means  depend  on  crowded  congregations;  nor  is 
it  at  all  proportioned  to  them.  Regeneration  and  conver- 
sion must  be  individual:  and,  even  if  one  in  ten  of  those- 
who  do  attend  should,  by  God's  special  grace,  be  quickened 
from  the  death  of  sin,  wiihin  two  or  three  years;  these  will 
help  by  their  example,  influence,  and  prayers,  and  prove 
instruments  of  bringing  forth  others.  Uniformly,  as  fir  as 
I  can  see,  my  usefulness,  as  a  preacher,  has  been  greatest, 
where  my  congregations  have  been  small  and  discouraging; 
and  great  depression  about  my  work  has  preceded  success. 
Wait,  and  pray,  and  hope:  be   steadfast,  immoveable,  Src.'''' 

A  small  contribution  to  a  letter  dated  August  12,  exhibits 
him  thus  bearing  up  against  depressing  circumstances  and 
painful  feelings. 


1813—1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  319 

''Several  events  which  have  lately  occurred,  and  many 
things  respecting  others  in  the  neighborhood,  concur  with 
my  own  rather  dejected  feelings,  to  render  me  more  mel- 
ancholy just  now  than  usual.  But  why  art  thou  so  heovy^  O 
my  soul'^  and  why  art  thou  so  disquieted  within  me?  Hope 
still  in  God,  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him. — Hitherto  he  hath  help^ 
ed  us.  May  he  help  us  to  thank  him,  submit  to  him, 
and  trust  him!" 

December  6,  1819;  he  thus  expresses  his  opinion  on  a 
subject  which  has  of  late  drawn  a  considerable  share  of 
public  attention,  and  will  probably,  if  the  measures,  which 
have  been  adopted  in  certain  quarters,  should  be  persisted 
in,  draw  still  more. 

"In  general,  it  appears  to  me,  that  the  laws  lately  made 
have  changed  the  episcopal  executive  power  into  a  legisla- 
ti-ve  one,  iVithout  parliament  being  at  all  aware  of  it;  and 
that  it  would  be  well  if  some  fully-considered,  judicious, 
and  calm  attempt  of  an  enlarged  kind,  could  be  made  to 
state  the  case  fairly  to  the  different  members  o£  the  legisla- 
ture. But  I  consider  it  as  by  no  means  exclusively  the 
cause  of  the  curates:  for  it  might  be  so  acted  upon  in  res- 
pect of  conscientious  incumbents,  as  to  drive  them  into  the 
dilemma  of  either  resigning  their  livings,  or  retaining  their 
incomes  and  responsibility,,  while  they  could  do  nothing  to 
answer  that  responsibility;  nay,  must  witness  those  officiat- 
ing as  their  curates,  who  attempted  to  destroy  the  fruits  of 
their  labors,  and  poison  their  tlocks.  This  might  be  my 
case,  if  1  should  bve  till  quite  disabled  for  service. — The 
very  title  of 'The  Curates'  Appeal'  seems  to  be  exception- 
able; as  if  curates  alone  were  concerned:  whereas  it  is  a 
common  concern  of  all  who  are  under  episcopal  jurisdiction, 
and  should  be  taken  up  as  such,  if  at  all." 

With  this  extract  we  may  not  improperly  connect  anoth- 
er, from  a  letter  which  he  wrote  in  1815,  to  a  young  cler- 
gyman of  high  respectability,  who  was  refused  priests' or- 
ders, on  grounds  which  the  extract  itself  will  sufficient- 
ly explain.  1  the  rather  insert  it,  because,  while  other 
passages,  which4iave  been  introduced,  demonstrate  him  to 
have  been  a  strenuous  advocate  for  submission  to  authority, 
this  will  shew  what  limits  he  fixed,  on  one  side,  at  least,  to 
that  duty. 

"I  am  indeed  overdone  with  stated  and  occasional  engage- 
ments, and  especially  at  present But  your  case  is  one 

tliat  must,  in  some  measure,  be  attended  to,  and  without  fur- 
ther deirtv.     It  is  a  common  cause 


320  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  XV. 

"I  and  my  brethren,  with  whom  I  have  talked  over  the 
subject,  are  decidedly  of  opinion  that  you  ought  by  no  means 
to  quit  your  curacy,  unless  you  are  compelled  to  do  it;  but 
to  go  on  with  your  ministry,  as  a  deacon,  in  the  manner 
you  before  did.  ...  By  all  means  stand  tirm,  and  let  the 
bishop,  by  a  direct  act  of  authority,  turn  you  out,  and  then 
the  real  ground  of  it  may  be  more  clearly  stated  and  ascer- 
tained. I  need  hardly  say,  that  his  requiring  you  to  sign 
his  explanation  was,  ipso  faclo^  to  make  a  new  article  by  his 
own  single  authority,  and  to  require,  not  the  subscription 
legally  to  be  required,  but  one  altogether  illegal;  and 
which,  if  admitted,  and  tacitly  yielded  to,  may  become  a 
precedent^  and  convert  our  limited  government  (limited  in 
church  as  well  as  state.)  into  an  arbitrary  and  tyrannical 
one.  Every  bishop  may,  by  the  same  rule,  put  his  own 
construction  on  any  article,  or  clause  of  an  articl*?.  A  man 
may  be  required  to  sign  one  set  of  articles  when  ordained 
deacon,  another  when  ordained  priest,  another  when  insti- 
tuted, iic.  No  authority  but  that  of  an  act  of  parliament 
ean  give  any  bishop  a  right  thus  to  add  to  the  articles  to 
be  subscribed:  and,  however  meekly  and  politely  it  be 
done — suaviter  in  modo^  yetfortiter  in  re — his  lordship  must 
be  shewn  that  you  understand  it  in  this  light;  and  that  the 
public  must  be  informed  of  the  transaction  in  this  view  of 
it,  if  coercive  measures  be  resorted  to.  .  .  .  No  matter  what 
the  new  article  is,  however  unexc-eptionable:  the  imposing 
of  it  is  an  act  of  illegal  assumption  of  authority.  The  apos- 
tles' conduct,  in  respect  of  the  magistrates  at  Fhilippi, 
shews,  that  it  is  perfectly  consistent  with  Christian  meek- 
ness to  stand  up  for  the  law  of  our  country,  against  those, 
who,  professing  to  administer  it,  act  in  direct  violation  of  it. 
And  Mr.  Gisborne'slate  letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Gloucester, 
respecting  the  Bible  Society,  shews,  that  the  authority  of 
a  diocesan  is  subject  to  legal  limitations,  as*  well  as   that  of 

a  magistrate 1  cannot    be  sorry   that  a  case   of  this 

kind  is  likely  to  come  to  some  public  decisk)n;  that  it  may 
be  known  what  our  superiors  can,  and  what  they  cannot 
legally  require:  and  i  am  satisfied,  that,  if,  to  the  meekness 
and  discretion  already  shewn,  you  add  Christian  fortitude 
and  patience,  it  will  terminate  to  you  also  creditably  and 
comfortablj^  May  God  direct,  strengthen,  and  bless  you!" 
Another  death  occurred  in  the  ffimily  near  the  end  of 
this  year — that  of  my  (own)  mother's  sister,  who  was  also 
united  to  us  by   additional  ties.     Her  husband,  to  whom 


t813— 1821.]         TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  321 

several  letters  inserted  in  the  earlier  parts  of  this  work 
were  addressed,  had  died  hkewise  within  the  period  of 
this  chapter,  in  1815. 

On  the  present  occasion  mj  father  writes — 

"December  9,  1819.  Your  account  of  Mrs.  E.  is  consol- 
ing, and  I  desire  to  be  very  thankful.  I  think  she  was 
about  my  age.  Your  uncle  in  his  eighty-sixth  year  contin- 
ues nearly  as  usual!  but  my  infirmities  grow  upon  me, 
though  gradually,  and  I  cannot  expect  to  continue  long. 
Pray  that  God  may  give  me  stronger  faith,  more  lively 
hope,  and  more  patient  resignation;  for  1  am  grievously 
deficient.  I  am  as  fully  employed,  however,  as  ever:  and 
besides  all  the  rest,  I  have  undertaken  to  manufacture  a 
shorter  book  from  my  answer  to  Paine.  The  new  edition 
of  the  Bible  is  my  main  work:  we  are  now  in  Isaiah:  but  i 
fear  my  Index  and  Concordance  will,  after  all,  come  to 
nothing,  for  I  have  now  no  tmie  for  it." 

Deaths,  as  I  admonished  the  reader  to  expect,  crowd  up- 
on us  in  the  progress  of  this  chapter.  The  events  which  I 
have  now  to  record  are  all  of  that  nature.  The  next  waa 
one  in  which  the  nation  sympathized,  though  not  with  that 
pang  of  anguish  and  disappointment  which  it  had  felt  f«r 
the  loss  of  the  Princess.  I  find  it  thus  advened  to  in  a  let- 
ter dated  February  17,  1821. 

"Your  father  was  enabled  yesterday  (his  birth-day,)  to 
preach  a  most  suitable  and,  1  think,  admirable  sermon  on 
the  dear  old  king,  from  Psalm  xxxix,  5,   which  seemed  to 

give  much  satisfaction,  except  to .     The  last   head 

of  the  discourse  was  on  the  duties  to  which  we  are  called  in 
the  present  state  of  things;  in  which,  speaking  of  the  evil 
of  coalescing  with  bkisphemers  and  infidels,  he  observed, 
that  he  thought  almost  all  the  truly  pious,  among  dissenters 
as  well  as  churchmen,  would  stand  aloof  from  such  charac- 
ters; and  m^eJ'tioned  with  much  approbation  the  speech  of 
Mr.  Hinton,  n  the  Oxford  meetmg,  and  the  protests  made 
by  the  Wesleyan  Methodists.  The  church  was  very  full, 
and  the  people  very  attentive." 

The  death  of  my  father''s  aged  and,  for  very  many  years 
past,  only  brother,  immediately  followed.  My  sister  adverting 
to  it  observes,  (March  8th,)  "The  same  letter  which 
l)fOught  this  account,  seems  to  indicate  that  my  aunt  VYeb- 
«?ter  can  last  but  a  very  short  time  longer. — This  brcakmg 
up  of  the  family  affects  me  deeply,  as  it  seems  to  bring 
nearer  to  my  view  that  dreadful  stroke,  which  we  cuooot 


322  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  XV. 

hope  very  long  to  escape,  and  for  which  my  mind  is  notwith- 
standing wholly  unprepared.  The  last  time  I  saw  our  be- 
loved father,  he  said  to  me  with  peculiar  emphasis,  'You 
must  try  to  wean  yourself  from  me:  I  shall  not,  I  cannot  be 
with  you  long:  it  is  cruel  to  pray  for  my  life.'  " 

Within  little  more  than  a  month,  this  anticipation  respect- 
ing Mrs.  W.  was  realized.  My  father  wrote  to  her  son, 
April  7th: 

"Your  account  of  your  mother  is  in  one  view  very 
grievous,  but  in  another  highly  consolatory,  and  suited  to 
excite  gratitude.  I  hope  ere  this  she  is  somewhat  rehev- 
od  and  recovered:  though  neither  of  us  can  expect  more 
than  mitigations  and  alleviations.  I  need  hardly  add,  that, 
as  far  as  my  constant  prayers  avail  for  her  support,  comfort, 
and  blessedness,  she  has,  and  long  has  had  them;  as  well 
as  you  and  your  family.  Give  my  best  love  to  her,  and  as- 
sure her  of  this.  It  is  all  I  can  do.  1  hope  we  shall  ere 
long  meet  in  a  world,  where  sickness  and  sorrow  will  be 
no  more,  because  sin  will  be  for  ever  excluded 

"P.  S.  Pray  for  me;  not  that  I  may  live,  but  that  my 
faith,  hope,  love,  and  patience,  &c.,  may  be  invigorated, 
and  that  I  may  finish  my  course  with  joy." 

And  again,  on  the  22d  of  the  same  month,  as  follows: 

*'When  I  received  yours,  I  was  just  beginning  to  recover 
from  a  rather  dangerous  attack  of  sore  throat  and  fever, 
which  reduced  me  so  much,  that  I  fully  expected  to  have 
been  delivered  from  the  burden  of  the  flesh  before  my  suf- 
fering sister.  Two  Sundays  I  have  been  silent:  I  mean  to 
try  to  preach  once  to-morrow,  b,ut  feel  very  incompetent; 
and  am  convinced  my  work  is  nearly  done.  I  am,  howev- 
er, now  left,  beyond  all  probability,  the  only  survivor  of 
our  once  numerous  family-— tottering  on  the  brink  of  the 
grave.  So  soon  passeth  it  azvay^  and  we  are  gone.  Oh  that  I 
could  adopt  St.  Paul's  words  under  all — JVone  of  these  things 
tnove  me,  Sic:  but,  alas!  I  am  hke  an  old  vessel,  shattered 
by  many  storms,  and  now  scarcely  able  to  stand  a  moderate 
gale  of  wind.  Pray  for  me,  that  I  may  have  more  faith, 
hope,  longing  love,  patience,  submission,  meekness,  &c. 

"After  what  you  wrote  of  your  dear'mother's  sufferings, 
in  your  former  letter;  and  after  reading  the  contents  of 
your  late  letter;  however  nature  may  feel,  1  cannot,  in  my 
judgment,  but  consider  her  release  as  a  matter  of  thankful- 
ness: and  it  is  highly  refreshing  to  learn,  how  the  Lord  pre- 
pared her  before  he  took  'her  hence.     In  her  case,  I  trust 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  323 

all  is  well.  May  her  words  be  remembered  by  you,  and 
the  prayers,  which  she  offered  while  with  you,  be  abun- 
dantly answered  to  you  and  yours!" 

At  this  period,  I  received  a  letter  from  Aston:  but  the 
only  insertion  which  it  contained  from  my  father's  hand 
was  in  these  words,  ''Only  be  of  good  courage,  man!" 
They  related  to  a  sermon  which  I  was  preparing  to  preach 
before  the  Prayer  Book  and  Homily  Society.  1  give  them 
as  characteristic.  Thus  did  he  persevere,  even  when 
weighed  down  and  drooping  himself,  in  animating  others  to 
zeal  and  boldness  in  the  service  of  his  great  master. 

The  sermon  just  alluded  to  brought  me  into  the  south 
about  this  time,  and  afforded  the  opportunity  of  taking  two 
of  my  daughters  to  visit  their  grandfather  and  other  rela- 
tives. I  shall  insert  two  short  extracts  from  letters  re- 
ceived from  one  of  them,  who  did  not  reach  Aston  till  after 
my  own  return  to  Hull. 

"Aston,  June  17,  1820.  We  came  hither  on  Thursday. 
We  found  all  pretty  well:  but  Iwas  very  sorry  and  surprised  to 
see  the  alteration  which  has  taken  place  in  my  dear  grand- 
papa's looks  since  I  last  saw  him.  My  aunt  had  told  me  I 
should  see  a  great  difference;  but  I  did  not  suppose  it  would 
be  near  so  great.  This,  with  the  ruinous  appearance  of 
the  house,*  seemed  to  make  a  melancholy  impression  upon 
me  at  first.  1  thought  every  place  looked  altered,  and  ap- 
peared gloomy;  though  now  that  I  have  been  here  a  day  or 
two,  it  does  not  appear  near  so  much  so." 

^* Aston,  June  29,  1820.  My  grandpapa  is  but  poorly, 
though  1  think  not  much  worse  than  usual.  It  is  astonishing 
that  he  bears  the  heat  so  well  as  he  does  [The  thermom- 
eter was  from  84  to  86  in  the  middle  of  the  day.]  He 
still  works  in  the  garden  every  day  after  dinner,  when  it 
is;  hotter  than  at  any  other  time,  and  does  not  complain 
much  of  it.  He  preaches  with  great  animation,  though  he 
often  seems  scarcely  able  to  speak  before  he  goes  into  the 
pulpit:  but,  when  he  begins  his  sermon,  he  seems  so  taken 
up  with  it,  that  he  appears  to  forget  his  fatigue,  and  every 
thing  else  but  his  subject." 

The  parting  scene  with  these  two  girls,  which  proved 
final  as  far  as  their  grandfather  was  concerned,  was  very 
striking.  I  wish  it  were  in  my  power  to  state  more  par- 
ticularly what  passed:  but  a  short  extract  of  a  letter,  writr 

*  Tlus  will  be  explained  in  the  next  Letter,  of  September  21. 


524  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE      [Chap,  X\  . 

ten  a  few  days  after,  from  Aston,  to  my  sister,  is  the  only 
memorandum  I  have  upon  the  subject. 

"Our  Hull  guests  left  us  last  Friday.  (July  28.)  The 
dear  girls  were  almost  broken-hearted  on  the  occasion: 
and  the  study,  the  morning  of  their  departure,  might  justly 
be  called  Bochim*  The  scripture  that  came  in  order  hap- 
pened to  be  Jacob's  blessing  his  grand-children!  (Heb.  xi, 
21,  &c.)  Your  father  could  hardly  proceed:  and  we  all 
wept  abundantly.  He  said,  except  his  own  childrea,  he 
never  was  so  affected  at  parting  with  any  before." 

In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year  I  was  enabled  to  take  my 
wife,  two  others  of  my  daughters,  and  my  two  sons,  to  pay 
him  their  last  visit.  Here  too  the  parting  was  most  affect- 
ing, while,  laying  his  hands  upon  the  heads  of  the  children, 
he  poured  forth  his  benedictions  and  prayers  over  them, 
and,  sobbing  aloud,  repeated  the  words,  "One  generation  gO' 
eth^  and  another  cometh^'*''  and  added,  "but  the  one  point  of 
importance  is,  whither  we  go!" 

For  a  brief  account  of  what  followed  our  departure,  I 
was  indebted  to  my  sister. 

"October  H>,  1820.  Our  dear  father  appeared  much 
affected,  and  looked  deplorably  ill  after  he  parted  with  you 
all:  but  he  revived  in  the  evening,  and  was  better  than  I 
expected  to  see  him.  He  said  to  me,  'Well,  this  day  is 
over:  a  day  I  have  looked  forward  to  with  much  dread,  and 
I  cannot  but  feel  thankful  that  it  is.' — His  feelings  of  a  kind 
and  tender  nature  seem  to  become  more  acute,  while  all 
those  of  an  angry  and  harsh  kind  seem  nearly  dead.  This 
strikes  me  more  and  more  every  time  I  see  him;  and,  as  I 
believe  the  contrary  is  the  natural  effect  of  old  age  and 
disease,  the  influence  of  religion  appears  the  more  evident.'* 

What  is  here  described  was  mdeed  true  to  an  extraordi- 
nary degree  concerning  my  dear  father.  It  had  long  beevk 
delightful  to  observe  how  every  thing,  which  might  once 
have  appeared  harsh  or  rugged  in  his  natural  temper,  had 
almost  entirely  melted  away:  and  now,  at  this  late  period, 
it  was  deeply  affectmg  to  observe,  how,  if  he  had  dropped 
a  word  that  seemed  to  himself  (others  perhaps  had  not  per- 
ceived it,)  impatient,  or  suited  to  wound  the  feelings  of  any 
one,  though  ever  so  slightly,  he  would  presently,  with  tears 
stealing  down  his  cheeks,  give  his  hand  to  the  party  con- 
cerned,  and  ask  forgiveness. 

*  Judges  ii.* 


1813^1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  323 

Immediately  after  I  left  him,  he  wrote  to  his  nephew,  tlio 
Rev.  T.  Webster,  a  letter  on  which  Mr.  W.,  in  handing  it  to 
me,  makes  the  remark,  "Considering-  my  obligations  to  him, 
the  occasion  was  utterly  unworthy  such  notice:  I  only  send 
this  as  the  last  letter  received  from  him  "  The  reader  will, 
I  trust,  think  with  me,  that  it  contains  such  a  picture  of  the 
writer''s  mind  as  ought  not  to  have  been  kept  back. 

The  fact  was  this:  Mr.  W.  had  visited  him,  and,  finding 
him  unavoidably  engaged  in  expensive  repairs  of  his  par- 
sonage house,  had  left  in  his  study  a  very  affectionate  note, 
enclosing  jClt)  towards  the  charge.  My  father  had  delayed 
to  acknowledge  this,  till  he  felt  pained  and  mortiiied  at  his 
own  neglect.     At  length,  however,  he  wrote, 

"September  21,  1820.  You  must  no  doubt  have  for  some 
time  regarded  me  as  greatly  deficient  in  gratitude,  love,  or 
attention,  in  not  noticing  the  kind  note  and  liberal  enclosure 
which  you  left  on  my  mantle-shelf;  and  I  am  conscious  that 
I  have  been  faulty,  though  not  from  want  of  affection  and 
gratitude;  as  my  constant  prayers  for  you  and  all  your'swill 

at  length  testify How  1  have  felt  and  do  feel,  you  will 

know  better,  should  you  live  to  your  seventy-fourth  year; 
or  to  be  as  much  of  a  bruised  reed* in  that  respect  [as  to  in- 
firmities, &c.]  as  I  am. — You  and  your's  had  before  a  place 
in  my  daily  prayers,  as  near  relations^  and  you  as  a  minister: 
but  you  have  now  a  place  in  them  as  one  of  my  benefactors^ 
into  whose  heart  God  has  put  it  to  be  kind  to  me  for  his 
name's  sake.  (Phil,  iv,  14,  17,  18.) — I'he  expences  of  my 
repairing^  or  almost  re-founding  my  house  will  be  consider- 
able: but  1  have  some  hope,  as  one  consequence  of  it,  that 
by  means  of  the  instructions  he  has  received  at  Aston,  one 
of  the  persons  employed  has  been  led  to  discover,  that  his 
-  own  soul  was  built  on  a  still  worse  foundation  than  my 
house;  and  induced  to  build  on  a  tried  and  approved  one. 
If  not  disappointed  in  this,  I  shall  have  a  rich  amends. — 
!My  infirmities  so  increase  upon  me,  that  I  have  not  lately 
been  able  to  officiate  more  than  once  on  the  Lord's  day; 
and  I  have  many  doubts  whether  I  shall  be  able  to  continue 
even  that  long.  My  son  John  has  been  with  me  three  Sun- 
days' ...  He  and  his  left  us  with  many  tears  on  both  sides, 
the  other  day. — I  am  very  desirous,  if  it  could  be  done,  to 
have  some  assistance,  that  my  little  flock  might  still  be  'ieA; 
and  especially  that,  at  times  when  I  can  do  nothing,  they 
plight  not  be  quite  as  sheep  without  a  shepherd:  but  hitherto 
i  can  form  no  plan,  so  as  to  succeed  in  it. . . .  May  God  bless 
28 

i  -^ 


$26  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  XV. 

you,  in  your  soul,  and  in  your  ministry,  and  in  your  family, 
and  to  your  pupils,  and  in  all  temporal  things,  in  subservi- 
ency to  his  spiritual  blessings!" 

The  following  is  an  extract  of  a  letter,  which  I  soon  after 
received  from  him: 

"October  27, 1820.  I  have  lately  received  several  num- 
bers of  the  "Sailor's  Magazine."  It  is  surprising  to  what 
extent  the  endeavors  to  excite  a  religious  spirit  among 
sailors  are  carried;  and,  though  there  arc  many  things  that 
might  be  deemed  wrong,  and  blundering,  so  to  speak,  and  a 
measure  of  enthusiasm,  especially  as  to  conversions,  yet 
there  seems  nothing  antinomian  or  sectarian;  and  I  cannot 
but  think  that  God  is  blessing,  and  will  bless  the  endeavors; 
and  I  feel  more  excited  to  pray  for  this  hitherto  neglected 
description  of  our  fellow-sinners,  than  formerly. — 1  have 
sent  the  Committee  a  letter,  and  a  small  subscription." 

It  is  observable  that  the  latest  letter  I  have  seen  of  his 
writing,  and  I  have  reason  to  believe  it  the  last  he  ever 
wrote,  (for  it  is  dated  March  6th,  after  his  last  illness  com- 
menced,) relates  to  this  subject.  It  is  to  his  bookseller, 
Mr.  Seeley,  desiring  that  he  would  send  him,  among  other 
things,  the  subsequent  numbers  of  the  "Sailor's  Magazine," 
in  which  he  evidently  still  felt  much  interested. 

On  the  day  after  the  letter  just  inserted,  he  wrote  to  the 
Rev,  D.  Wilson,  concerning  a  paper  which  he  had  drawn 
up  on  the  subject  of  final  perseverance,  and  concerning  the 
notes  which  Mr.  W.  had  taken  of  one  or  two  of  his  later 
sermons.  He  says,  '4  can  have  no  objection  to  the  inser- 
tion in  the  Christian  Observer  of  any  notes  you  made  of 
the  sermon  you  refer  to.  In  fact,  I  think  such  notes  of 
several  of  my  later  sermons  would  be  far  preferable  to  the 
general  sermons  which  I  have  published:  but  I  cannot  take 
them;  and  it  would  not  do  for  them  to  come  from  me:  I  am 
a  very  unpopular  writer  of  sermons. .  . . 

"As  to  the  Concordance,  it  is  adjourned  sine  die.  After 
years  of  labor,  and  considerable  expence,  I  relinquished  if, 
that  I  might  attend  to  what  appeared  to  me  more  directly 
the  improvement  of  my  talent,  and  the  use  of  my  few  re- 
maining days.  A  few  months  might  have  completed  it:  but 
1  deliberately  determined,  in  this  respect,  to  take  my  labor 
for  my  pains,  and  to  expect  neither  credit,  nor  profit,  nor 
even  usefulness  for  my  labors.  They  kept  me  out  of 
mischief,  .is  I  said  to  you,  and  I  think,  prepared  me  for  re- 
vising my  Commentary  to  better  advantage,  especially  by 


1813—1821.1     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  327 

adducing  references  to  notes  throughout,  which  may  in 
some  measure  answer,  to  the  purchasers  of  the  new  edition, 
the  end  of  a  topical  index.  Should  I  be  spared,  which  is  not^ 
likely,  to  conclude  the  revisal,  and  have  any  measure  of 
ability  for  study,  I  should  probably  labor  to  produce  the 
Concordance  of  names,  and  the  topical  Index,  apart  from  the 
rest.  The  former  is  already  finished,  in  a  manner,  I  think, 
nearly  complete:  but  it  wants  separating  from  the  other 
parts  of  the  voluminous  manuscripts." 

On  the  same  subject  of  the  Concordance,  he  wrote  to  me, 
December  14th,  in  consequence  of  my  putting  the  question, 
*Does  not  Cruden  answer  every  practical  purpose?'  as  fol- 
lows: 

"•The  errors  and  deficiences  in  Cruden  are  tenfold  more 
than  are  generally  suspected;  and  I  behove  several  reasons 
induce  even  the  proprietors  to  wish  to  substitute  a  new 
work,  under  a  new  name,  in  the  place  of  it. .  .  .  Had  I  not 
been  impeded  by  age  and  infirmity,  and  unexpectedly  taken 
off  from  completing  it,  by  the  opportunity  of  supermtend- 
ing  the  new  edition  of  the  Bible,  I  am  persuaded  it  would 
have  been  published.  As  it  is  I  have  my  labor  for  my 
pains.  But  the  will  of  the  Lord  be  done. — The  topical  In- 
dex, if  executed  at  all,  must  be  made  by  one  who  is  thor- 
oughly acquainted  with  the  whole  work,  and  enters  into  the 
spirit  of  it.  The  projected  one,  if  ever  completed,  will,  I 
am  persuaded,  be  acceptable  to  many  purchasers  of  the 
several  editions  of  the  exposition. .  .  . 

''I  grow  more  and  more  infirm.  My  *icjfcnes5  seems  incur- 
able; and  I  am  often  oppressed  with  asthma:  yet  I  go  on 
doing  something." 

As  this  is  the  last  mention  that  occurs  of  the  Index 
and  Concordance,  I  shall  here  observe,  that  a  Topical  Index 
to  my  father's  Commentary,  upon  a  plan  approved  by  him- 
self, is  in  a  course  of  preparation,  and  that  his  whole  mass 
of  papers,  (a  very  large  one,)  pertaining  to  the  Concor- 
dance, is  in  the  hands  of  the  person  best  qualified  to  turn 
them  to  account,  if  that  should  be  judged  practicable  and 
expedient.  If  any  reader  should  be  disposed  to  regret  his 
having  employed  so  much  time  and  labor  upon  a  work 
which  may  very  probably  never  be  executed,  I  would  men- 
tion, besides  its  having,  no  doubt,  materially  contributed  to 
the  improvement  of  his  References  and  Commentary,  what 
he  once  said  to  me  upon  the  subject,  which  reminded  me  of 
the  beautiful  anecdote  in  Dr.  Buchanan's  life,  concerning  the 


328  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  tV. 

correction  of  the  proof  sheets  of  the  Syriac  Testament: 
'^^  Whether,"  said  my  father,  "this  work  ever  comes  to  any 
thing  or  not,  it  repays  me  for  my  labor,  by  the  dehght  I 
receive  from  having  the  whole  body  of  scripture  thus  kept 
constantly  revolving  before  me." — The  veriest  drudgery, 
as  many  would  esteem  it,  about  the  sacred  volume^  is  not, 
it  appears,  barren  of  enjoyment,  and  even  present  reward. 

At  the  beginning  of  th«  ensuing  year  he  speaks  of  dejec- 
tion, which  he  terms  "unaccountable,"  at  times  oppressing 
liim.  To  others,  however,  who  consider  his  age,  his  cir- 
cumstances, as  being  always  confined  to  one  spot,  his  con- 
stant indisposition,  his  extreme  deafness,  his  frame  worn 
down  by  incessant  labors,  it  will  rather  appear  wonderful 
that  he  should  have  been  able  to  summon  up  resolution  to 
write  and  speak,  and  act  as  he  did,  than  unaccountable  that 
his  spirits  should  sometimes  have  failed  him.  Brighter 
gleams,  however,  from  lime  to  time,  shone  upon  his  mind, 
when  he  looked  beyond  the  present  scene.  To  his  servant 
inquiring  of  him,  at  this  period,  how  he  did,  he  rephed, 
"Very  poorly:  L  shall  soon  be  at  home:"  and  he  added, 
"Oh  how  my  heart  leaps  and  exults  within  me,  at  the 
thought  of  so  very  soon  joining  the  glorious  company  befor-e 
the  throne  of  God!" 

February  15,  1821,  he  wrote  his  last  letter  to  his  old 
friend.  Dr.  Ryland,  of  Bristol,  as  follows — 

"My  dear  Sir, — My  infirmities  and  diseases  grow  upon  me-, 
and  leave  me  little  time  or  heart  for  many  things  which  I 
should  otherwise  rejoice  to  do;  especially  as  to  correspond- 
ence. You  must,  then,  excuse  apparent  neglect." — The 
next  paragraph  relates  to  Dr.  Carey,  and  has  been  inserted 
in  an  early  part  of  this  work. 

"Your  account  of  your  sister's  death,  and  of  her  conver- 
sation with  poor  old  Dr.  ,  is  in  itself  very  interesting, 

and  lo  me  especially.  He  was  a  very  kind  and  generous 
friend  to  me,  many  years  ago:  but,  alas!  my  feeble  endeav- 
ors and  prayers  for  his  good  have  hitherto  been  in  vain. 
May  God  bless  your  beloved  dying  sister's  faithful  attempt. 

"I  wish  we  could  do  something  to  aid  your  mission:  but  I 
can  only  pray.  I  have  no  ability  of  moving  from  my  ob- 
scure village,  and  my  means  of  other  kinds  are  less  than 
they  were  some  time  past.' 

"Indeed  I  do  not  expect  to  continue  long.  O  pray  for 
me,  tlint  my  faith,  hope,  love,  patience,  and  fortitude  may 
be  increased;  and  that  I  may  finish  my  course  with  joy:  for 
I  am  apt  to  be  impatient,  unbelieving,  and  cowardly, 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  329 

"1  rejoice  that  you  are  able  to  g-o  from  place  to  place,  in 
your  services  of  love;  may  the  Lord  prosper  you  in  all! 
Could  you  call  at  little  Aston,  you  would  meet  with  a  hearty 
welcome,  and  be  sure  to  find  us  at  home. 

"Mrs.  S.  joins  me  in  hearty  Christian  remembrance  to 
you,  Mrs.  R.,  and  all  your's.  May  God  bless  you  and  all 
your's,  and  every  work  and  labor  of  love  in  which  you  en- 
gage! 1  remain,  my  dear  old  friend,  and  fellow  laborer, 
your's  faithfully,  Thos.  Scott." 

His  last  letter  to  me  was  dated  a  few  days  after,  Febru- 
ary 23.  In  reply  to  his  complaints  of  dejection,  I  had  re- 
minded him  of  the  remarkable  sentence  which  he  had  ut- 
tered at  the  meeting  of  our  family  party  two  years  and  a 
half  before,  and  had  quoted  it  at  length,  as  it  has  been  given 
above — his  answer  is  very  striking 

"Dear  John, — My  deliberate  judgment  on  the  whole  is 
the  same  as  1  expressed  in  conference  with  you  and  others. 
Goodness  and  mercy  have  followed  me^  &/'C.  Perhaps,  when 
warmed  with  the  subject,  I  spake  more  strongly  of  my  own 
personal  contidence,  than  my  \\7\h'\iu^\  feelings  warrant:  but 
my  dejected  feehngs  are  often  perfectly  unaccountable,  and 
the  least  matter  makes  me  subject  to  them.  But  I  trust  ail 
will  end  well.  Yet  I  apprehend,*  that  to  die  of  lingering 
disease  and  infirmity,  shut  out  from  ordinary  resources  of  re- 
freshing intercourse  and  employment,  requires  at  least  as 
much  patience,  and  as  strong  supports,  as  the  sufferings  of  a 
martyr  in  other  circumstances:  and  the  want  of  duly  expect- 
ing this  is  one  reason,  I  suppose,  why  many  excellent 
worn-out  old  men  have  been  dejected.  It  came  upon  them 
unexpectedly,  and  disconcerted  them. 

"I  have  not  seen  Dr.  Milner's  Sermons;  but  will  procure 
them. 

"I  hope  that,  notwithstanding  all  interruptions  and  diffi- 
culties, and  your  own  fears  and  feelings,  it  is  appointed  for 
you  to,  &c.  &,c.  If  you  have  not  that  snare^  which,  being 
aware  of  it,  you  will  more  watch  and  pray  against,  some 
other  will  come  in  its  stead.  Such  must  be  the  case,  while, 
with  sin  dwelling  in  us^  we  live  in  such  a  world  as  this. 
Had  I  had  those  views  of  arduousness,  importance,  and  aw- 
ful responsibihty,  when  I  engaged  in  my  Commentary, 
which  I  have  at  present,  I  should  have  shrunk  from  the 
service  with  trepidation.  I  have  much  to  be  humbled 
for,  and  have  had  many  painful  rebukes, — and  still  have:  x^i 
*28 


330  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE  [Chap.  XV. 

probably  it  was  better  that  I  engaged  than  if/  I.  had  not. 
We  do  nothing  from  perfectly  pure  motives;  yet  we  must 
occupy  with  our  modicum  of  talent  as  we  can 

'4  can  only  add  my  love,  and  most  endearing  remembran- 
ces to  dear  Frances,  (whom  1  especially  think  of  in  my 
prayers,)  and  Jane,  and  Fanny,  Anne,  Mary,  John,  &,c.  &c. 
May  God  bless  you  and  all  of  them,  and  make  all  of  them 
blessings  to  others  long  after  I  am  gone.  Let  the  children 
of  thy  servants  continue^  and  their  seed  be  established  btfore^ 
thee!     (Psalm  cii,  28.) 

I  am,  dear  John,  your  affectionate  father, 

THo^fAS  Scott. 

"I  have  revised  copy  *to  the  end  of  Thessalonians." 

Thus  his  correspondence  with  me  closed:  a  more  wise, 
more  pious  and  holy,  or  more  affectionate  conclusion  of  it 
I  could  not  have  desired.  My  next  letter  from  Aston  brought 
the  tidings  of  his  fatal  illness. 

Four  days  after  the  preceding  date,  he  wrote- to  the  hus- 
band of  his  deceased  sister,  Mrs.  Burgess.  The  death  refer- 
red to  in  this  letter  is  that  of  the  niece  to  whom  some  letters 
already  inserted,  were  addressed. 

"February  27,  1821.  I  am  grown  very  infirm  and  dis- 
eased, and  have  Httle  time  or  heart  for  letter-writing: 
yet  the  afflictive  tidings  of  your  daughter's  almost  sudden 
death,  joined  to  my  nephew  W.'s  letter,  induce  me  to  un- 
dertake a  few  lines  to  you,— I  do  greatly  sympathize  with 
you  under  the  heavy  affliction:  yet  there  were  many  cir- 
cumstances respecting  it  which  may  prove  consolatory  and 
supporting 

''My  heart's  desire  and  prayer  for  you  is,  that  you  may 
be  saved:  and  in  one  way  or  other  you  and  your's  are  sel- 
dom forgotten  in  my  prayers  any  da}',  and  often  are  repeat- 
edly remembered May  God  bless  you  and  all  your's; 

and  gather  in  those  that  are  not  gathered;  and  be  your  com- 
forter in  sorrow,  your  supporter  in  old  age,  your  hope  in 
death,  and  your  portion  for  ever!  Pray  for  me  and  mine.  I 
am,  dear  brother,  your's  affectionately, 

Thomas  Scott." 

On  the  same  day,  he  wrote  his  last  letter  to  his  friend  in 
Northumberland,  which  I  shall  insert  almost  entire. 

"Dear  Mrs.  R ,  A  letter  from  you,  though  to  spread 

your  troubles  before  me,  seems  a  refreshment  to  me,  as  it 
reminds  me  of  former  times;  and  because  I  consider  ail  who 
are  converted  by  your  njeans,  or  in  answer  to  your  prayers. 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  331 

as  in  some  measure  the  fruit  of  my  former  labors.  But  I 
am  now  old  (in  my  seventy-fifth  year,)  and  infirm,  and  dis- 
eased in  various  ways,  and  incapable  of  much  exertion:  yet 
I  still  preach  once  every  Lord's  day,  and  expound  in  my 
house  in  the  evening.  I  am  also  yet  employed  with  my 
pen,  almost  as  much  as  formerly,  in  preparing  and  superin- 
tendmg  a  new  stereotype  edition  of  my  Family  Bible;  but 
with  pamfulness  and  weariness,  which  leave  me  little  time 
or  spirits  for  correspondence.  I  bless  God,  however,  that, 
though  excluded  by  deafness  from  much  conversation,  my 
eye-sight  is  not  materially  impaired;  and  I  can  use  my  pen 
as  nimbly  as  ever. 

''•I  can  sympathize  with  you  in  your  feelings  concerning 
your  children,,  and  children's  children.  All  my  children 
are,  I  trust,  serving  God:  and  my  anxiety,  as  far  as  that  is 
concerned,  is  about  my  grandchildren,  of  whom  I  have  nine- 
teen, and  expect  a  twentieth  very  soon.  ....  I  pray  in 
hope,  that  they  will  be  gathered  one  by  one,  though  most 
of  them  after  my  death;  and  in  this  hope,  I  use  such  means 
as  I  can;  and  desire  to  leave  the  whole  with  a  sovereign 
God  who  delighteth  in  mercy. 

••'You  must  go  on,  blessing  God  for  what  he  has  done; 
using  what  means  you  can  with  those  that  are  yet  without 
and  the  furthest  off;  and  persist  in  prayer  for  them.  You 
must  stir  up  such  of  your  children  as  serve  God,  to  do  what 
they  can — and  probably,  if  zealous  with  a  loving  and  pru- 
dent zeal,  they  may  do  more  than  yon  can, — and  to  concur 
with  you  in  pra3'er  for  them:  and  thus  you  must  endeavor 
to  bow  in  submission  to  God;  to  wait  his  time;  to  be  wilhng 
to  leave  the  world  without  witnessing  their  conversion;  yet 
hoping  and  praying  that  they  will  at  length  be  converted. 
The  promises  of  God  to  his  people  are  so  far  encouraging 
yet  he  has  not  absolutely  engaged  for  the  conversion  of  all 
and  every  one:  and  we  must  leave  that  painful  subject, 
(^casting  all  our  care  on  God,)  till  the  bright  world  to  which 
we  are  going  shall  fully  satisfy  us  that  He  did  all  wisely 
and  well. 

"I  also  sympathize  with  you  as  to  your  minister;  and  do 
Ihink  it  not  only  very  hard  as  to  him,  but  somewhat  dis- 
graceful as  to  the  congregation,  that  a  frugal  mamtenance 
cannot  be  raised  for  him.  And  as  he  '•does  not  make  the  peo- 
ple uneasy,'  were  I  among  you,  I  would  try  to  do  it  for  him. 
1  think  his  decided  friends,  though  not  rich,  should  rather 
overstep  usual  bounds  of  contribution,  trusting  in  the  Lord, 


332  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  XV. 

OH  such  an  emergence;  and  become  bold  beggars  in  his  cause 
where  they  would  rather  suffer  than  ask  any  thing  for 
themselves 

"I  can  truly  say  I  seldom  forget  you  and  your's.  .  .1  have 
lost  my  only  brother,  aged  eighty-six,  and  my  only  sister 
aged  seventy-seven,  during  the  last  year;  and  am  the  only 
survivor  of  thirteen  children;  and  am  dropping  into  the 
grave.  May  we  be  well  prepared  to  go  whenever  the 
summons  comes!  Pray  for  me  and  mine:  for  me  especially, 
that  God  would  give  me  stronger  faith;  more  Hvely,  assured 
hope;  more  patience;  more  love;  that  I  m-a.y  finish  my  course 
with  joy.  Earnestly  begging  of  our  most  merciful  God 
abundantly  to  bless  you  and  all  your's,  I  remain,  dear  Mrs. 

R ,  your  affectionate  friend  and  servant, 

Thos.  Scott." 

I  shall  now'^close  this  chapter  with  a  few  letters  which  I 
have  reserved,  m  order  to  avoid  too  much  which  did  not 
contribute  to  the  narrative. 

To  a  niece,  left  by  the  death  of  her  mother  at  the  head 
of  a  family: 

"March  13,  1815. — Your  situation  ^t  present,  though  it 
cannot  and  ought  not  perhaps  to  be  decUned,  is  one  ofgreat 
importance  and  ditBcutty,  and  probably  of  temptation;  con- 
sidering how  early  days  the  present  are  with  you  as  to  re- 
ligion; and  how  many  things,  being  at  the  head  of  such  a 
family,  will  bring  under  your  management,  and  in  your  way. 
But  without  further  information  as  to  particulars,  I  cannot 
enter  on  much  appropriate  counsel.  You  have  two  duties: 
they  cannot  interfere,  but  they  may  seem  to  do  so.  You 
must  honor,  and  obey,  and  oblige.your  father,  in  all  things, 
except  when  a  higher  duty  to  God  forbids.  You  must  follow 
his  inclination  in  preference  to  your  own;  but  not  in  prefer- 
ence to  the  will  of  God:  and  the  more  you  give  up  your 
own  will,  the  more  you  will  find  liberty  to  follow  your  con- 
science in  respect  of  the  will  of  God.  By  prudence  and 
consulting  propriety;  by  meekness  and  gentleness,  united 
with  firmness,  in  things  of  importance;  it  may  be  prac- 
ticable to  you  to  maintain  comfort  and  respectability  in 
your  situation,  and  give  a  happier  turn  to  all  domestic  con- 
cerns. But  eagerness  and  pertinacity  in  little  things,  and 
pHableness  in  things  of  importance,  will  undo,  or  prevent  all 
this. 

"Allow  me  to  touch  one  subject  which  I  know  requires 
^reat  delicacy.    A  great  deal  indeed  will  depend  on  your 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  333 

appearance  and  dress.  I  do  not  want  to  convert  you  into  a 
quaker,  or  put  you  into  livery,  but  1  cannot  be  faithful 
without  paying,  that  in  your  present  station,  and  especially 
as  being  known  to  pay  attention  to  religion,  a  considerable 
revolution  will  be  necessary  from  what  I  saw  when  I  last 
met  you.  You  will  take  the  hint  in  good  part;  it  is  well 
meant;  and,  if  moderately  attended  to,  as  to  style,  expense, 
and  attention  to  dress,  will  have  the  happiest  effects,  in 
every  way.  Especially  it  will  make  way  for  your  becom- 
ing acquainted  with  those  who  would  be  a  great  help  to  you, 
and  exempted  from  the  giddy  acquaintance  of  those  who 
can  only  hinder  and  ensnare  you. 

"I  should  particularly  recommend  method  to  you,  in  your- 
employments.  If  you  would  at  all  prosper  in  your  soul, 
you  must  secure  time  for  retirement,  reading  the  scriptures, 
and  helps  in  understanding  them;  and  prayer,  secret,  par- 
ticular, earnest  prayer.  Without  this  nothing  will  be  done. 
This  time,  in  your  situation,  will,  I  apprehend,  be  best  sey 
cured  by  retrenching  an  hour  from  sleep,  and  such  things 
as  merely  relate  to  external  decoration,  in  the  morning,  be- 
fore your  more  hurrying  engagements  begin;  and  in  the 
evening  before  it  be  too  late.  But  securing  time  in  the 
morning  is  the  grand  thing:  not  that  the  other  should  be 
neglected;  but  it  will  necessarily  be  exposed  to  more  inter- 
ruptions. A  plan,  however,  should  be  laid  down,  and  adher- 
ed to,  with  as  much  regularity,  at  least,  as  that  about  our 
meals.  That  must  sometimes  be  broken  in  upon;  yet  not 
often.  Above  all,  as  much  as  possible,  secure  the  whole  of 
the  Lord's  day,  and  firmly  stand  out  against  Sunday-visitings. 
In  addition  to  this,  if  you  would  improve  your  mind  and 
heart,  learn  to  redeem  the  fragments  of  time.  Have  a  book 
at  hand,  that  when  you  are  waiting  perhaps  for  your  father 
or  friends  to  dinner,  or  on  similar  occasions,  you  may  not  let 
the  little  oddments  of  time  elapse,  or  rather  heavily  drawl 
on  as  a  burden:  but  take  the  book,  and  read  a  little;  and,  if 
you  lift  up  a  short  prayer  over  what  you  read,  so  much  the 
better.  It  is  surprising  how  much  I  have  read  and  learned 
in  these  fragments  of  time,  which  most  people  lose.  Gat/ir 
er  up  the  fragments  that  nothing  be  lost. 

'4  am  afraid  your  influence,  at  first  at  least,  will  be  in- 
sufficient for  what  I  am  about  to  add;  but  persevering,  firm, 
and  mild  efforts  may  do  much:  I  mean  in  avoiding  late  visits., 
and  the  late  entertainment  of  visitors.  Even  among  pious 
persons,  I  scarcQly  know  any  thing  more  hostile  to  the  re? 


334  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  XV. 

li^^ion  of  the  closet — that  is,  the  religion  of  the  heart  and 
soul. 

"What  you  mention  in  respect  of  original  sin,  lies  at  the 
bottom  of  all  Christianity;  and  we  never  learn  any  thing 
else  to  much  purpose,  till  we  become  deeply  sensible  of  in- 
nate depravity;  of  a  moral  disease^  which  we  cannot  cure, 
and  have  not  heart  of  ourselves  to  cure:  but  which  the 
Lord  alone  can  cure.  We  ought,  however,  to  seek  the 
cure  from  Him,  as  we  do  health  from  the  physician,  by  ap- 
plying to  him,  trusting  him,  following  his  directions,  wel- 
coming his  medicines,  avoiding  what  he  inhibits,  &,c. — If 
you  propose  any  special  questions  to  me,  in  opening  your 
mind  as  you  mention,  I  will,  if  able,  give  you  the  best  coun- 
sel I  can. — 1  remain,  your  affectionate  uncle, 

Thomas  Scott." 

To  the  same. 

"April  5,  1818. — I  am  not  disposed  to  prescribe  to  any 
one  an  implicit  deference  to  the  sentiments  or  maxims  of 
another,  however,  senior  or  superior:  but,  when  the  junior 
or  inferior  diflfers  from  the  superior,  it  should  be  with  great 
caution,  and  many  prayers  and  fears  lest  the  difference 
should  be  the  effect  of  mistake,  or  inferior  knowledge,  judg- 
ment, and  simplicity,  rather  than  of  more  correct  and  scrip- 
tural views  of  truth  and  duty.  The  peculiarity,  which  I 
have  sometimes  noticed  in  approved  characters  with  some 
disapprobation,  I  have  in  many  instances  lived  to  regard  as 
the  result  of  deeper  experience,  more  enlarged  observa- 
tion, and  a  more  exact  knowledge  of  the  word  of  God,  of 
the  human  heart,  and  of  the  state  of  the  world  and  the 
church. 

"I  believe  that  many  cordially  approve  of  the  general 
outhne  of  the  established  church,  who  yet  dissent  from  it, 
even  where  they  might  hear  the  genuine  gospel  preached 

in  the  church,  from  some  such  objection  as   has  to  the 

Athanasian  creed.  I,  however,  think  that  the  advantages  of 
our  worship  so  much  counterbalance  what  may  be  thought 
imperfections,  that  I  am  cordially  attached  to  it;  though 
not  with  such  indiscriminating  partiality  as  some  are.  I 
have  httle  objection  to  the  doctrine,  or  to  the  spirit,  of  the 
Athanasian  creed.  Properly  understood,  it  only  pronounces 
the  damnatory  sentence  on  those  whom  the  scripture  con- 
demns; and  this  only  in  a  declarative  way ^  not  as  denouncing 
them,  or  imprecating  evil  upon  them.  But,  as  it  endeavors 
too  particularly  to  explain  what,  after  all,  is  incomprehen- 


1813—1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  3^5 

sible;  as  many  have  objections  to  it;  and  as  it  is  appointed 
only  in  the  morning  service  which  is  otherwise  sufficiently 
long;  I  do  not  very  frequently  use  it."  .  .  . 

To  a  clergyman,  the  vicar  of  a  large  and  important 
parish. 

"August  12,  1819.  Reverend  and  dear  Sir,  I  should 
count  it  a  privilege,  if  1  could  suggest  any  hints,  which 
might  help  you  in  that  most  important  charge  to  which  the 
Lord  has  called  you:  but  I  especially  am  without  experimen- 
tal acquaintance  with  the  subject.  I  have,  however,  made 
many  observations  on  what  others  have  attempted. 

"When  curate  of  Olney,.  I,  as  it  were,  inherited  a  prayer- 
meeting  conducted  on  the  same  plan,  but  not  so  wild  and 
extravagant  as  the  prayer-meetings  in  your  parish  are:  but  \ 
soon  found  it  needful  or  advisable  to  withdraw,  and  to  leave 
the  persons  who  conducted  it  to  themselves;  neither  op- 
posing nor  countenancing  it.  Most  of  them  became  dissen- 
ters, some  dissenting  ministers.  Since  that  time,  I  have 
never  had  any  opening  for  any  thing  of  the  kind:  but  I  used 
to  advise  my  people  when  they  visited  one  another,  or  were 
visited  by  relations  from  other  places,  or  met  on  any  occa- 
sion, that  one  of  them  should  read  a  chapter,  and  that  the 
same  person,  or  some  other,  should  pray  particularly  with 
the  company,  and  for  their  neighbors,  the  sick,  their  min- 
ister, and  ministers  in  general,  and  missionaries,  and  the 
enlargement,  purity,  and  peace  of  the  church:  but  not  to 
attempt  other  prayer-meetings.  This  plan  seemed  to  an- 
swer every  needful  purpose:  and  often,  when  I  visited  the 
sick,  or  went  to  a  distant  place,  a  number  would  collect 
around  me:  and  I  gave  appropriate  counsel  and  prayed  with 
them.  In  this  village  the  whole  population  does  not  much 
exceed  seventy  persons,  my  own  family  included — what  a 
contrast  to  your  parish!  1  expound  in  my  kitchen  to  such 
as  attend  on  a  Sunday  evening,  and  pray  with  them:  and  in 
winter  on  the  week-day  evening.  But  we  have  no  praying 
men  or  praying-women,  (I  mean  in  public,)  either  to  help 
or  hinder  us.  In  a  neighboring  village,  there  are  prayer- 
meetings,  at  which  some  of  my  congregation  attend  and 
assist;  but  I  take  no  part  in  respect  of  them. 

"In  general,  I  am  apt  to  think  it  very  difficult  for  a  min- 
ister in  the  establishment  to  form,  or  conduct  prayer-meet- 
ings, in  such  a  manner  as  that  the  aggregate  good  shall 
not  be  conterbalanced,  or  even  over-balanced  by  positive 
evil.     But  men  of  far  greater  experience,  and  capacity  of 


336  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE  [Chap.  XV. 

judging,  have  thought  otherwise;  among  whom,  I  especial- 
ly look  up  to  Mr.  Walker,  of  Truro,  whose  regulations  I 
thought  very  judicious.  But  I  am  also,  I  fear,  prejudiced; 
as  the  evils  which  arose  from  those  at  Olney  induced  such 
an  association  of  ideas  in  my  mind,  as  probably  never  can 
be  dissolved. — Two  or  three  effects  were  undeniable.  \st. 
They  ^proved  hotbeds,  on  which  superficial  and  discreditable 
preachers  were  hastily  raised  up;  who,  going  forth  on  the 
Lord's  day  to  the  neighboring  parishes;  intercepted  those 
who  used  to  attend  Mr.  Newton.  2dly.  Men  were  called 
to  pray  in  public,  whose  conduct  afterwards  brought  a  deep 
disgrace  on  the  gospel.  3dly.  They  produce  a  captious, 
criticising,  self-wise  spirit,  so  that  even  Mr.  Newton  him- 
self could  seldom  please  them.  These  things  had  no  small 
effect  in  leading  him  to  leave  Olney.  4thly.  They  render- 
ed the  people  so  contemptuously  indifferent  to  the  worship 
of  God  at  the  church,  and,  indeed,  many  of  them  to  any  pub- 
lic w^orship  in  which  they  did  not  take  a  part,  that  I  never 
before  or  since  witnessed  any  thing  like  it:  and  this  was 
one  of  my  secret  reasons  for  leaving  Olney. 

''As  what  1  have  written  seems  to  go  far  towards  a  nega- 
tive answer  to  your  first  question;  it  will  be  needless  to  give 
any  opinion  on  the  modification  of  such  institutions.  In 
general,  if  any  are  explicitly  countenanced  by  the  cler- 
gyman, they  should  exactly  conform  to  such  regulations  as 
he  shall  deem  expedient:  or,  if  he  attend,  none  should  offi- 
ciate except  himself,  or  some  clerical  friend  or  assistant: 
for  it  must  destroy  all  ministerial  authority  and  influence, 
for  him  to  be  present,  while  one  of  his  flock,  a  layman,  is 
the  mouth  of  God  to  the  company,  or  of  the  company  in 
addressing  God.  It  is  also  an  irregularity,  which  cannot  be 
justified  to  our  diocesans  or  others. 

"Ifprayer-meetings  cannot  be  thus  conducted,  under  the 
countenance  of  the  clergyman,  it  appears  to  me,  that  he  had 
better  leave  them,  and  those  concerned  in  them,  to  take 
their  course,  neither  directly  supporting  nor  opposing  them; 
but  endeavoring  to  inculcate  those  general  principk  s,  which 
may  silently  operate  to  regulate  and  purify  them;  and  using 
his  influence  with  the  more  teachable  and  manageable  of 
those  concerned,  in  private  admonitions,  counsels,  and  cau- 
tions, nearly  in  the  manner  which  you  describe.  In  the 
mean  time,  he  must  lay  his  account  with  being  less  popular 
than  those  who  more  humor  the  people,  and  give  them 
more  importance  among  their  brethrenj  which  is  one  grand 


1813—1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESl^.  m"i 

advantage  that   dissenters   of  every  kind  have  over  pious 
clergymen. 

"No  caution  can  be  more  important,  than  what  relates  to 
the  persons  called  forth  to  take  an  active  part  in  such  ser- 
vices. The  first  proposal  should  be  made  with  extreme 
care:  for,  when  once  a  man  is  considered  as  ^one  of  the 
praying  or  expounding  persons,  it  will  not  be  easy  to  lay 
him  aside,  even  if  he  become  a  disgrace,  and  a  distress  to 
most  of  the  company. — As  to  women  praying  in  public  in 
the  presence  of  men,  it  is  so  antiscriptural,  so  inconsistent 
with  all  the  subordination  in  domestic  life,  and  with  all  that 
modesty  and  delicacy,  which  are  the  chief  ornaments  of  the 
sex,  that  I  should  feel  at  liberty  openly  to  protest  against  it. 
But,  perhaps,  it  may  not  be  expedient,  as  yet,  for  you  to 
do  so.  Nothmg  but  an  undoubted  prophetical  spirit  in  the 
woman  herself  can  render  it  consistent  with  scripture. 

"But  'good  is  done.'  God  may  do  good  notwithstanding: 
but  are  we  to  do  evil  that  good  may  come?  Does  he  need  our 
misconduct  to  accomplish  his  purposes?  Shall  we  break 
his  laws  to  promote  his  Gospel?  Good  is  done:  but  is  not 
mwcAie/ also  done?  The  mischief  is  the  direct  consequence: 
the  good  by  occasion  at  most.  Such  men,  Mr.  Cecil  used 
to  say,  have  but  one  side  in  their  account-book:  they  set 
down  their  gains,  but  not  their  losses:  and,  these  being" 
greater  than  their  gains,  they  become  bankrupt.  The 
prejudice  excited  among  those  without,  and  the  various 
ways  in  which,  by  such  practices,  the  success  and  spread  of 
the  Gospel  are  hindered,  (besides  the  mischief  done  to 
the  persons  concerned,)  warrant  the  assertion  that  they 
are  most  grievous  evils;  had  bills  indorsed  sometimes  by 
good  men. 

"Upon  the  whole,  I  think  you  are  going  on  in  as  hopeful 
a  manner  as  can  reasonably  be  expected,  and  I  rejoice  in  the 
prospect  of  usefulness,  which  lies  before  you.  1  pray  God 
to  direct,  counsel,  and  prosper  you;  pray  forme,  especially 
that  I  may  have  patience  and  hope  to  the  end.  1  am,  rever- 
end and  dear  sir,  your  friend  and  servant, 

Thomas  Scott." 

To  a  clergyman  who  had  consulted  him  upon  a  question, 
which  the  letter  itself  will  sufficiently  explain. 

December  20,  1819.     Reverend  Sir,  Your  letter  is  writ- 
ten  in  so    proper  a   spirit,  and    relates  to    so  interesting  a 
subject,  that  1  should  deem   myself  favored  if  I  could  give  a 
satisfactory  answer  to  it. 
29 


338  Disposal  of  his  bible       [Chap.  xv. 

"I  have  long  felt  some  of  the  difficulties  which  you  state, 
in  respect  of  direct  addresses  in  worship  to  the  Holy 
Spirit,  personally  and  separately;  of  which  certainly  but  few 
are  found  in  the  sacred  scriptures.  Perhaps,  as  all  our 
tpiritual  worship  must  be  offered  by  his  sacred  teaching 
and  influence  on  the  heart  and  mind;  and,  as  the  grand 
promise  of  the  New  Testament,  comprising  all  the  rest  for 
spiritual  blessings,  relates  to  God's  giving  us,  through 
Christ,  the  Holy  Spirit,  of  hfe,  light,  holiness,  power,  lib- 
erty, and  love,  &c.;  it  is  less  proper  that  our  prayers 
should  be  offered  directly  and  personally  to  the  Holy  Spirit. — 
The  form  of  Baptism,  into  the  name  of  the  Father^  of  the  Son^ 
and  of  the  Holy  Ghost^  seems  to  me  to  recognize  God  our  Sa- 
vior, as  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  In  tliis  view, 
when  God  is  addressed  witheut  personal  distinction,  I  con- 
sider the  address  as  made  to  the  God  of  salvation;  and  the 
Holy  Spirit  included,  whether  prayer  or  praise  be  offered. — 
The  trishagion,  or  threefold  ascription  of  holiness  to  Jeho- 
vah^ both  in  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  seems  an  act  of 
worship  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  together  with  the  Father,  and 
the  Son. — The  form  of  blessing  appointed  by  Moses,  in  this 
Yiew,  implies  a  prayer  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  the  threefold 
repetition.  Num.  vi,  24 — 27;  as  does  the  apostolical  bene- 
diction, 2  Cor.  xiii,  14. — I  have  no  hesitation  in  my  mind,  as 
to  the  express  act  of  adoration,  in  Rev.  i,  4,  being  offered 
personally  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  according  to  the  emblemat- 
ical language  of  that  book.  And,  when  salvation  is  ascribed 
to  our  God^  who  sitteth  on  the  throne^  and  unto  the  Lamb^  I  con- 
sider the  term  God  as  denoting  the  God  of  salvation,  as 
above  explained;  and  the  Lamb  that  voas  slain^  as  referring 
to  the  incarnate  Savior's  propitiation  and  mediation^ 
through  whom  we  sinners  approach  God  with  all  our  wor- 
ship, and  to  eternity  shall  view  all  our  salvation  as  coming 
to  us  through  his  sacrifice. — It  appears  to  me,  that  the  rea- 
son why  the  Sinso  so  frequently  addressed,  in  both  scriptural 
prayers  and  adoring  praises,  springs  from  his  mediatoral 
character,  as  God  manifested  in  theflesh;  and  as  God  was  in 
Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself;  and  as,  in  address- 
ing him  who  owns  us  as  brethren,  we  do  not  forget  his  De- 
ity, and  recollect  also,  that  he  suffered^  being  tempted^  that  he 
might  succor  the  tempted.  The  style  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, is  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  as  that 
of  the  Old  Testament  is,  the  God  of  Mraham^  or  of  Israel 
but,  in  both,  the  true  God  is   Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 


1813—1821.]       TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  339 

One  JVame^  three  persons:  and,  in  addressing  God  in  Christy 
we  come  to  God  by  Christ,  even  as  it'  we  addressed  God  as 
the  Father  of  Christ.  This  seems  clearly  exhibited  in  the 
apostolical  practice:  Through  whom  we  have  access,  by  one 
Spirit,  unto  the  Father, 

If  then  we  be  fully  convinced  that  the  Holy  Spirit  is  God, 
and  that  all  divine  perfections  and  operations,  together 
with  every  personal  property,  are  ascribed  to  him,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  but  he  is  the  object  of  divine  adoration. 
Where  God  is  addressed,  without  distinction  of  persons,  the 
Holy  Spirit  is  virtually  addressed:  all  that  dependence, 
gratitude,  love,  and  honor,  which  are  required  as  due  to 
our  God,  are  required  towards  the  Holy  Spirit;  and  there- 
fore worship,  and  adoring  praise  and  ptayer  cannot  be  im- 
pro]»er.  Yet,  probably,  had  not  the  controversies  with 
Arians  and  others  made  way  for  it,  so  large  a  proportion  of 
personal  addresses  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  would  not  have  been 
found  in  our  public  services.  I,  however,  feel  no  dissatis- 
faction respecting  them,  though  in  other  acts  of  worship  I 
am  not  so  generally  and  explicitly  led  to  address  the  Holy 
Spirit. 

"Should  these  thoughts  induce  you  to  propose  any  further 
questions,  I  will  endeavor  to  answer  them.  I  grow  old  and 
infirm,  though  still  employed:  but  I  much  need  your  pray- 
ers: and,  if  you  and  your  friends  have  derived  any  benefit 
from  my  labors,  (to  God  be  all  the  glory!)  do  not  forget  me 
at  the  throne  of  grace,  but  pray  for  me,  that  God  would 
give  me  tiie  increase  of  faith,  and  hope,  and  patience;  that 
I  may  not  dishonor  him  in  my  closing  scene,  or,  after preacli- 
ing  to  others,  be.  myself  a  cast-away;  but  may  finish  my  course 
with  joy.  With  prayer  that  God  may  abundantly  bless  you 
and  yours,  and  all  your  labors,  I  am,  reverend  Sir,  your 
faithful  friend  and  brother,  Thos.  Scott." 

The  person  addressed,  observes,  in  transmitting  me  the 
letter,  '^As  I  believe  the  late  Mr.  Scott  to  be  the  best  Bible- 
scholar  living,  being  in  the  possession  of  the  result  of  his 
inquiries  upon  the  question,  1  have  been  and  am  perfectly 
at  rest  upon  it." 

His  last  letter  to  the  Rev.  John  Mayor,  Shaw%yry,  Salop. 

"January  2, 1821.  My  dear  old  friend,  I  iim  ur^willing  to 
deny  your  request  to  write  a  few  lines  in  i^mswer  to  your 
kind  letter;  but  multiplied  engagements  and  many  infirmi- 
ties must  plead  for  a  much  shorter  letter  thah  1  should  oth- 
erwise write. 


S49  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE         [Chap.  X\\ 

"I  am,  indeed,  very  far  from  §"00(3  health:  I  am  wearing 
down  by  increasing  infirmities,  local  and  chronical  diseases, 
and  old  age,  almost  sevent3'-four.- — I  have  not  been  out  of 
my  parish,  or  at  the  further  end  of  it,  for  several  years. 
One  service  on  the  Lord's  day  seems  to,  overdo  me;  and  I 
have  got  a  curate.  Yet,  in  my  study  I  apply  myself  nearly 
as  much  as  usual,  though  with  much  uneasiness  and  weari- 
ness.— -Well,  after  all.  Surely  goodness  and  mercy  have  follow- 
ed me  all  my  days^  and^  I  hope,  /  shall  dwell  in  the  house  of 
God  for  ever. 

"I  am  thankful  that  you  write  as  in  health  and  spirits; 
and  for  the  favorable  account  you  give  of  your  family. 
May  God  gather  them  all  into  his  family,  and  make  them 
and  their's  blessed!  May  the  children  of  thy  servants  continue, 
and  their  seed  be  established  before  thee!  (Psal.  cii,  28.)  My 
children,  I  trust,  are  in  the  way  to  heaven,  and  useful  to 
others.  I  have  nineteen  grand-children;  all  hopeful,  as  far 
as  we  can  see:  one,  I  trust,  more  than  hopeful;  and  others, 
I  hope,  coming  forward.     Pray  for  them. 

"I  am   as  fully  aware   of 's  unfairness,  as   well  as 

gross  blunders  in  quotation,  as  any  book  can  make  me:  but 
he  has  the  whole  human  heart  on  his  side;  and  he  furnishes 
some  plausible  arguments  to  those  numbers  of  ignoramuses, 
who  hate  the  genuine  gospel,  but  are  totally  incompetent 
to  make  any  reply  to  it. . . . 

"I  have  the  honor  of  having  as  many  lies  told  of  me,  as 
most  men  in  these  days.  I  never  wrote  to what- 
ever I  thought  or  said  privately,  any  thing  like  what  is  im- 
puted toine.  Challenged  repeatedly  in  a  peculiar  style,  I 
found  it  necessary  to  write  a  letter  declining  the  challenge, 
as  civilly  as  I  could  with  sincerity;  and  I  have  no  objection 
to  the  letter  being  published  in  any  newspaper,  if  any 
choose  to  do  it.  He  too,  though  less  specious,  among 
another  company  has  all  the  human  heart  on  his  side:  but 
doing  good  is  against  wind  and  tide,  and  goes  on  slowly; 
yet,  by  God's  blessing,  surely. — I  am  sorry  for  what  you 

write  about  Mr. .  . . .  Indeed,  eager,  vehement.,  speculating 

Arminianism  is  most  nearly  allied  to  Pelagianism,   and   the 

transition  is  almost  imperceptible.     No  doubt and  his 

meaner  coadjutor defend  Pelagianism,  as  well  as  Ar- 
minianism. 

"So  you  are  become  a  dabbler  in  prophecy,  as  almost 
every  one  is  in  these  days.  I  read,  in  various  ways,  almost 
numberless  tracts,  papers,  pamphlets,  books,  upon  the  sub^ 


1821.]       HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  AND  DEATH.*"         341 

ject  of  unfulfilled  prophecies:  but  still  I  cannot  prophesy. 
Nor  do  I  yet  see  reason  to  alter  the  opinions',  which  I  have 
given  in  my  former  editions  of  the  Famil}?  Bible.  In  Dciciel, 
I  have  endeavored  to  elucidate  and  confirm  those  views;  I 
hope,  successfully.  When  I  come,  should  I  live  so  long,  to 
Revelation,  I  will  carefully  revise  that;  and  I  will  keep  y<)i:r 
letter,  and  weigh  what  you  have  said;  for  I  desire  light 
from  every  quarter,  and  I  trust  sincerely  pray  dailj  to  be 
set  right  where  wrong. — At  present,  I  am  decidedly  of 
opinion,  that  all  describing  the  church,  or  the  new  Jerusa- 
lem, in  the  xxist  and  xxiid  of  Revelation,  relates  to  the 
heavenly  state:  that  all  relating  to  the  earthly  state  ends, 
in  the  xxth  chapter,  with  the  account  of  the  day  of  judg- 
ment: that  the  coming  and  reign  of  Christ,  before  and  dur- 
ing the  millennium,  will  be  tpiritual,  not  personal:  that  the 
resurrection  of  souls  does  not  mean  the  resurrection  of 
bodies — but  as  John  the  Baptist  was  Elijah:  and  that,  at 
last,  we  are  all  much  in  the  dark,  and  should  not  be  confi- 
dent, as  our  descendents  will  know. — If  the  new  Jerusalem — 
examine  its  form  and  size — is  to  be  placed  literally  in  Judea, 
how  can  all  the  kings  of  the  earth  bring  their  glory  and 
riches  into  it, — from  Mexico,  Peru,  China,  Russia,  &c.?  and 
what  is  to  be  done  with  them  there? — But  I  desist:  I  can 
conceive  of  a  figurative,  but  can  form  no  manner  of  concep- 
tion of  a  literal  fulfilment:  and  the  whole  book  is  allegor- 
ical. .  .  . 

"Our  best  love  to  Mrs.  M.,and  your  brother  and  relations 
in  London,  and  to  my  goddaughter,  Jane.*  May  God  bless 
you,  and  them,  and  all  their"'s,  and  make  them  blessings! 
May  he  grant  you  and  yours  a  happy  year,  and  many  happy 
years! — Pray  that  God  would  increase  my  faith,  hope,  and 
patience,  especially,  during  my  closing  scene,  that  I  may 
finish  my  course  with  joy  I  remain,  dear  Sir,  with  much 
affectjon  and  esteem,  your  faithful  friend  and  brother, 

Thomas  Scott." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HIS    LAST    ILLNESS    AND    DEATH. 

Of  the  last  solemn  scenes  of  this  chapter,  the  Rev.  D.  Wil- 
son thus  introdu(;es  the  account,  which  he  has  already  givea 
to  the  public  in  his  excellent  funeral  sermons. 
*29 


342  •  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  [Chap.  XVt. 

"During  sevei-al  years  preceding-  the  event  itself,  hia 
bodily  infirmities  had  been  gradually  increasing-.  His 
strength  and  natural  spirits  at  times  sensibly  failed.  His 
own  impression  was  that  his  departure  was  approaching, 
and  he  contemplated  it  with  the  calmness  and  tranquillity 
which  1  have  already  noticed  as  being  implied  in  the  lirst 
clause  of  my  text.*  He  preached  more  than  once  from  the 
words  of  St.  Peter,  with  an  evident  reference  to  his  own 
case,  Knozmng  that  I  must  shortly  put  off  this  my  tabernacle. 
He  said  to  me  about  two  years  srince,  4  feel  nature  giving 
way;  I  am  weary  of  my  journey,  and  wish  to  be  at  home, 
if  it  be  God's  will;'  meaning  that  he  desired  to  depart  and  to 
be  with  Christ.  The  nearer  he  came  to  the  time  of  his  dis- 
missal, he  became  the  more  earnest  in  prayer,  that  God 
would  uphold  him  during  the  Scenes  of  suffering  and  trial 
which  might  await  him  before  his  last  hour,  expressing  at 
the  same  time  the  deepest  conviction  of  his  own  weakness 
and  unworthiness,  and  his  constant  need  of  divine  mercy. 
He  had  been  particularly  anxious  during  the  entire  period 
of  his  ministry  to  be  preserved  from  dishonoring  his  holy 
profession;  and  now,  as  life  wore  away,  he  became  more 
and  more  fervent  in  prayer  for  grace  that  he  might  not  say 
or  do  tiny  thing,  that  should  lessen  the  weight  of  what  he 
had  previously  taught  and  written." 

What  has' already  appeared  in  these  pages  will  amply 
confirm  the  correctness  of  these  representations. 

A^arn,  after  introducing  some  sentences  from  the  last  ser- 
mon which  he  !ienrd  my  father  preach,  Mr.  Wilson  pro- 
ceeds: "Thus  did  this  holy  man  continue  to  speak  and  act 
in  the  near  view  of  death,  in  the  mean  time  he  remitted 
nothing  of  his  accustomed  labors.  It  is  but  a  short  time 
since  he  wrote  to  one  of  his  children,  '1  believe  I  work  more 
hours  daily  in  my  study  than  ever  1  did  in  my  life.'  Increas- 
ing deafness  indeed  precluded  him  almost  entirely  from  con- 
versation. His  spirits  also  failed  him  more  and  more,  and 
he  would  sometimes  burst  into  tears,  whilst  he  assured  his 
affectionate  family  that  he  had  no  assignable  cause  of  dis- 
tress whatever.  But  his  judgment  and  habits  of  close  thought 
seemed  to  remain  unimpaired  still.  His  last  discourse  was 
deUvered  on  Sunday,  March  4th,  from  the  words  of  the 
apostle  Paul,  He  tlutt  spared  not  his  own  *So«,  but  delivered 
him  up  for  us  all^  how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  %is 

*  2  Tira.  iv,  6-8. 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  343 

all  things?  In  the  evening  of  the  same  day  he  expounded 
as  usual  to  several  of  his  parishioners  assembled  in  his  rec- 
tory, from  the  parable  of  the  Pharisee  and  the  Publican. 
He  entered  with  much  animation  into  both  these  subjects; 
and  in  the  evening  he  applied  to  himself  in  a  very  aifecting" 
manner  the  prayer  of  the  penitent  publican,  God  be  merciful 
to  me  a  sinner.  In  this  striking  manner,  did  he  close  his 
public  testimony  to  the  faith  which  he  had  kept  during  his 
whole  preceding  ministry." 

Very  cordially  also  do  I  concur  in  the  following  additional 
remarks,  with  which  Mr,  W.  prefaces  the  part  of  his  sub- 
ject to  which  we  are  approaching: — 

"Before  I  proceed  to  give  some  particulars  of  his  most 
instructive  and  affecting  departure,  i  must  observe  that  I 
lay  no  stress  on  them  as  to  the  evidence  of  his  state  before 
God.  It  is  the  tenor  of  the  lii'e^  not  that  of  the  few  morbid 
and  suflfering  scenes  which  precede  dissolution,  that  fixes 
the  character.  We  are  not  authorized  by  scripture  to  place 
any  dependence  on  the  last  periods  of  sinking  nature,  through 
which  the  Christian  may  be  called  to  pass  to  his  eternal  re- 
ward. The  deaths  of  the  saints  described  in  the  inspired 
volume  are,  without  exception,  the  concluding  scenes  of 
long  and  consistent  previous  devotedness  to  the  service  of 
God.  Such  are  those  of  Isaac,  Jacob,  Moses,  David.  That 
of  Stephen  is  the  only  narrative  of  this  kind  in  the  New 
Testament,  which  regards  the  article  of  death  at  all;  and 
the  circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed,  as  the  first  mar- 
tyr of  the  Christian  Church,  may  well  account  for  the  ex- 
ception. The  great  apostle  of  the  gentiles,  and  the  other 
inspired  founders  of  the  new  dispensation,  are  exhibited  to 
us  in  the  holiness  of  their  lives,  in  the  calmness  of  iheii* 
approach  towards  death,  in  the  deliberate  judgment  they 
form  of  their  past  labors,  in  their  exhortations  to  others  to 
supply  their  vacant  posts  of  duty,  in  their  triumphant  antici- 
pations of  their  future  reward;  but  not  in  the  actual  mo- 
ments of  their  final  conflict.  It  would  therefore  have  been 
no  subject  of  surprise,  if  the  last  days  of  our  lamented  friend 
had  been  wholly  clouded  by  the  natural  operations  of  dis- 
ease. ^'-We  should  then  have  drawn  the  veil  entirely  over 
them,  as  in  the  case  of  many  of  the  eminent  servants  of 
Christ,  in  every  age.  But,  though  no  importance  is  to  be 
attached  to  these  hours  of  fainting  mortality,  with  reference 
to  the  acceptance  and  final  triumph  of  the  dying  Christian, 
yet,  where  it  pleases  God  to  afford  one  of  his  departing  ser- 


314  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVI 

vants,  as  in  the  instance  before  us,  such  a  measure  of  faith 
and  self-possession  as  to  close  a  holy  and  most  consistent 
life,  with  a  testimony  which  sealed,  amidst  the  pains  of  acute 
disease,  and  in  the  most  impressive  manner,  all  his  doctrines 
and  instructions,  during  forty-five  preceding  years,  we  are 
called  on,  as  I  think,  to  record  with  gratitude  the  divine 
benefit,  and  to  use  it  with  humility  for  the  confirmation  of 
our  own  faith  and  joy." 

These  remarks  premised,  I  proceed  to  lay  before  the 
reader  the  best  account  in  my  power  of  the  deeply  affecting 
scene;  which  I  shall  do  chiefly  in  the  words  of  letters  writ- 
ten, and  memorandums  made  on  the  spot.  This,  I  trust, 
will  be  to  the  reader,  who  feels  himself  sufficiently  interest- 
ed in  the  event  to  excuse  the  minuteness  of  the  narration, 
the  most  satisfactory  plan  that  I  can  adopt. 

Sunday,  March  4,  was,  as  the  reader  has  already  been  in- 
formed, the  day  that  terminated  my  father's  public  minis- 
trations. Almost  immediately  afterwards  he  seems  to  have 
suft'ered  a  degree  pf  indisposition,  but  not  such  as  rendered 
it  necessary  to  inform  the  absent  branches  of  his  family  be- 
fore Friday,  March  IGth.  A  letter  of  that  date  brought  me 
this  intelligence:  "Your  dear  father  has,  for  this  last  week 
been  seriously  indisposed.  The  beginning  of  the  preceding 
week  he  caught  a  severe  cold.  On  Friday  (the  9th,)  he 
was,  however,  much  better  of  his  catarrhal  affection,  but,  on 
Saturday  was  attacked,  in  his  usual  way,  with  fever,  which 
continued  severe  till  Monday,  (the  12th,)  when  it  seemed 
to  yield  to  the  usual  remedies,  and  he  was  so  much  better 
as  to  come  down  stairs  for  a  short  time.  In  the  night  the 
feverish  symptoms  increased.  He  was  better  again  yester- 
day morning;  but  has  since  been  so  ill  that  I  resolved  to  send 
for  Dr.  Slater.  He  has  just  left  us  this  afternoon.  He  says 
the  complaint  is  quite  the  same  as  on  former  occasions,  ad- 
vises that  we  should  pursue  the  plan  already  adopted,"  kc. 

The  day  after  this  letter  was  written,  my  sister,  quite 
providentially,  and  as  it  seemed,  notwithstandmg  many  ob- 
stacles liaJ  opposed  her  journey,  went  o>'er  to  Aston;  little 
expecting  what  she  was  to  meet  with  there.  The  next  day, 
Sunday,  my  second  brother  arrived.  The  cause  of  his 
journey,  and  the  state  in  which  he  found  things,  are  thus 
described  in  a  letter  of  Monday,  March  19th. 

" — 1  had  sent  a  man  and  horse  over  on  Saturday  evening 
to  ascertain  my  father's  real  state,  with  directions  to  return 
early  in  the  morning  if  he  were  very  ill;  if  not,  to  stay  till 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  345 

Monday.  He  returned  early  yesterday,  and  brought  me  an 
account,  which  led  me  to  fear,  that,  though  I  travelled 
with  all  the  speed  a  post-chaise  could  give,  I  should  scarce- 
ly lind  him  aHve.  I  came  with  a  heavy  heart:  but,  I  am 
happy  to  say,  the  continuance  of  immediate  alarm  had  been 
short;  and,  as  1  drew  near  Aston,  I  met  with  one  or  two 
persons  who  gave  me  a  more  favorable  account  than  I  had 
anticipated.  1  found  him,  indeed,  in  an  exceedingly  weak 
state,  but  free  from  the  extreme  agitation  which  he  labored 
under  during  the  day  and  night  of  Saturday,  owing  to  the 
violence  of  the  fever.  Symptoms,  I  think,  are  on  the  whole 
improving,  but  I  cannot  feel  very  sanguine  hopes  of  his  ulti- 
mate recovery. 

"My  visit  certainly  is  very  painful;  yet  at  the  same  time 
very  gratifying:  for  it  has  removed  the  distressing  feeling 
I  had  about  the  state  of  his  mind.  His  gloom,  of  which  I 
had  heard  a  good  deal  in  an  indistinct  manner,  by  no  means 
relates  to  the  prospects  which  lie  before  him.  He  is  per- 
fectly calm  and  cheerful  in  the  view  of  dissolution;  and  seems 
disappointed  at  the  symptoms  of  recovery.  He  thought 
his  trials  were  almost  over;  and  said,  that  yesterday  morn- 
ing he  had  hoped  to  end  the  sacred  services  of  the  day  in 
heaven.  Indeed  his  wish  is,  decidedly,  to  depart,  in  the 
confidence  that  he  shall  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better. 
His  dejection  is  manifestly  nothing  more  than  the  feeling  of 
a  mind  exhausted  by  its  own  exertions: — for,  owing  to  his 
deafness,  he  has  none  of  that  refreshment  which  others 
feel  from  conversation;  so  that  the  amusements  of  his  mind 
are,  in  fact,  equal  to  the  mental  exertions  of  most  men. — 
His  feeliogs  on  Sunday  were  very  distressing  both  to  himself 
and  others,  and  were  clearly  aggravated  by  a  degree  of  de- 
lirium, arising  from  fever.  Yesterday  and  to-day  he  has 
been  quite  calm,  and,  though  too  weak  to  speak  much,  is 
•evidently  in  a  tranquil  state. — I  brought  my  eldest  boy 
with  me,  that  he  might  once  more  see  his  grandfather,  and 
receive  his  last  blessing.  He  spoke  to  him  for  a  few  minutes 
this  morning  in  a  very  affecting  manner,  and  j)ronounced 
his  blessing  upon  him,  in  a  way  which,  1  .trust,  he  will  never 
forget.  May  God  grant,  that  he  may  walk  in  the  steps 
which  are  leading  his  grandfather  to  glory!" 

The  day  on  which  this  letter  was  written  my  youngest 
brother  arrived  at  Aston.  For  myself,  a  still  more  urgent 
call  detained  me  from  the  scene,  to  which  duty,  as  well  as 
inclination,  would  otherwise  have  led  me,  and  kept  me  at 


346  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVL 

Hull  more  than  a  week  longer.  Almost  daily  letters,  how- 
ever,^ormed  me  of  the  state  of  things  at  Aston. 

That  of  March  20  reported,  that  "scarcely  a  hope  of  re- 
covery remained,"  and  complained  still  of  gloom  oppressing 
the  revered  sufferer's  mind.  It  added:  "No  doubt  this  de- 
jection is  occasioned,  in  great  part,  by  disease,  as  it  always 
comes  on  with  the  (daily)  paroxysm  of  fever.  His  hope  of 
final  victory,  indeed,  seldom  wavers. — He  may  linger  some 
time,  and  I  do  trust  the  sun  of  righteousness  will  yet  shine 
upon  him,  and  that  we  shall  here  witness  his  triumph:  but, 
if  not,  faith  will  still  behold  him  victorious  over  every  en- 
emy." 

The  next  day's  letter  announced  nothing  new.  The  fol- 
lowing from  my  brother,  was  very  gratifying. 

'•March  22,  Thursday.  I  take  up  my  pen  with  far  great- 
er pleasure  to  day  than  I  have  before  done,  to  write  con- 
cerning my  dear  father.  Foi;,  though  1  can  say  nothing  at 
all  favorable  respecting  his  health,  and,  indeed,  he  appears 
to  be  approaching  very  near  his  end,  yet,  thanks  be  to  God, 
the  clouds  which  overspread  his  mind  are  breaking  awa^^, 
and  he  talks  with  a  placidity  and  cheerfulness  greater  than  I 
have  before  seen  since  I  came.^— He  passed  a  very  distress- 
ing night,  owing  to  the  degree  of  debility  induced  by  the  fe- 
verish paroxysm  of  yesterday:  indeed  I  much  doubted 
whether  he  would  live  till  morning.  The  symptoms  have, 
however,  become  more  mild,  and  this  morning  he  rose 
above  his  feelings  of  bodily  uneasiness,  and  mental  depres- 
sion, and  seemed  io  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God. 

'^Just  as  we  had  assembled  for  family  worship,  he  sent  to 
say,  that  he  wished  us  to  meet  in  his  room,  and  join  with 
him  in  the  Lord's  supper,  as  a  means  of  grace,  through 
which  he  might  receive  that  consolation  which  he  was  seek- 
ing. It  is  utterly  impossiljle  to  describe  the  deeply  inter- 
esting and  affecting  scene.  The  whole  family  (with  one 
exception,)  and  an  old  parishioner  were  present.  The  fer- 
vor displayed  by  my  dear  father,  his  poor  emaciated  form, 
the  tears  and  sobs  of  all  present,  were  almost  more  than  I 
could  bear,  with  that  degree  of  composure,  which  was  re- 
quisite to  enable  me  to  read  the  service  so  as  to  make 
him  hear. — But  it  was  a  delightful  feeling,  and  has  done 
Biore  to  cheer  our  downcast  hearts  than  can  well  be  con- 
ceived* It  seems,  moreover,  to  have  been  quite  a  cordial 
to  ray  father's  spirits,  who  adopted  on  the  occasion  the 
words  of  the  venerable  Simeon  in  the  prospect  of  dissolution. 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  347 

He  is  now  quite  calm  and  like  himself;  and  can  clearly  dis- 
cern that  much  of  his  previous  uncomfortable  state  of  mind 
was  merely  the  effect  of  fever. 

''During  a  period  of  great  distress  from  this  cause  yester- 
day afternoon,  he  sent  for  me  for  the  purpose  of  mention- 
ing 'something  of  a  worldly  nature.'  I  expected,  of  course, 
that  he  had  some  communication  to  make  respecting  the 
arrangement  of  his  affairs.  But,  to  my  no  small  surprise, 
he  said,  it  was  time  for  planting  his  usual  crop  of  potatoes 
for  the  poor;  and  he  begged  that  1  and  my  brother  would 
take  steps  for  doing  it,  in  a  manner  best  calculated  to  secure 
the  benefit  to  those  for  whom  it  was  intended,  after  his  de- 
cease!— Here  was  an  mstance  of 'the  ruling  passion  strong 
in  death,'  such  as,  I  think,  has  not  very  often  been  seen." 

The  "ruling  passion"  may  be  considered  as,  in  this  in- 
stance, combining  two  ingredients,  the  love  of  gardening, 
and  a  "care  for  the  poor,"  which  led  my  father  to  turn  every 
nook  of  vi%ste  land  to  account,  for  their  benefit." 

This  evening  his  son  in-law,  the  Rev.  S.  King,  joined  the 
party  at  Aston,  from  London,  where  be  had  been  detained 
by  the  threatening  illness  of  his  own  father.  This  we  shall 
find  hereafter  alluded  to. 

My  sister's  letter  of  the  next  day  was  as  follows: 

"March  23.  Our  beloved  father  still  lives,  but  cannot, 
we  conceive,  continue  many  hours.  All  yesterday,  and 
through  the  night,  he  remained  in  so  blessed  a  state  of  mind, 
that  our  joy  and  gratitude  almost  swallowed  up  every  other 
feeling." — Some  sentences  of  great  joy  and  confidence  are 
then  reported,  which  will  atlterwards  occur  among  the 
memorandums  taken  of  what  fell  from  him;  and  it  is  added: 
"Ere  long,  however,  a  slight  flush  on  his  cheek  made  us 
fear  that  the  fever  was  returning;  and  our  fears  were  soon 
realized.  The  paroxysm  came  on  with  great  violence,  and 
with  it  that  confusion  and  gloom,  which  are  so  distressing  to 
himself  and^to  us.  He  is  more  calm  now,  though  in  a  state  of 
extreme  suffering.  He  longs  for  his  release,  and  says,  'All 
will  be  well  at  last.'  Great  submission  to  God  is  displayed 
throughout,  and  Tiiou  art  righteous  in  his  language. — We  are 
greatly  agitated  between  painful  and  pleasant  feelings:  but 
I  trust  God  is  with  us.  The  scene  is  instructive  beyond  ex- 
pression: and  I  have  felt  my  faith  so  confirmed,  that  f  can 
hardly  help  imagining  it  will  never  more  be  shaken. — We 
try  to  note  down  what  we   can:  but  who  can  describe  ike 


I'jok^  the  manner., 


348  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVI. 

*T.  S.  Afternoon.  Dr.  Slater  is  here,  and  my  father 
has  talked  with  amazing  energy,  and  a  most  minute  remem- 
brance of  all  that  has  passed. — Dr.  S.  can  h«lrdly  think  hig 
.end  is  very  wear." 

On  Saturday,  March  24,  my  sister  wrote: — "Our  be- 
loved father  still  lives,  in  great  suffering,  but  in  a  state  of 
mind,  which,  though  varying,  is  highly  delightful  to  all  who 
witness  it.  1  am  so  grieved  that  you  are  deprived  of  this 
consolation,  which  at  times  seems  to  raise  us  above  every 
painful  feeling,  that  I  am  determined  to  attempt  copyings 
some  things  which  we  have  noted  down,  during  the  last  i€^\Y 
days,  though  aware  that  they  will  give  you  little  idea  indeed 
of  what  has  passed." — These  memorandums  will  appear 
hereafter.  In  conclusion  she  adds:  "To-day  he  is  free  from 
fever,  and  in  such  a  state,  that,  were  he  younger,  there 
would  be  little  doubt  of  his  recovery.  But  we  dare  not  en- 
tertain such  an  idea.  He  greatly  longs  to  depart,  and  is 
disquieted  at  the  thought  of  what  really  is  not  very  improb- 
able,— a  lingering  illness.     His  constitution  is  wonderful."... 

"I  have  given  you  some  of  our  dear  father's  words:  but 
the  "ismay  in  which  they  were  spoken  is  beyond  all  descrip- 
tion." 

Dr.  Slater  of  Wycombe  is  the  physician  here  repeatedly 
referred  to;  who,  on  these  and  many  otheroccasions,  visited 
my  father,  at  the  distance  of  twenty  miles,  as,  strictly  speak- 
ing, a  "professional  /n'ewrf," — without  any  other  remunera- 
tion than  that  which  his  generous  and  ardent  mind  derived 
from  ministering  to  one  whom  he  revered  and  loved. 

The  same  day  a  letter  to  the  Rev.  D.  Wilson  observes: 
•'He  has,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  had  a  violent  parox- 
ysm of  fever  every  day  for  a  fortnight."  And,  after  report- 
ing his  remark  on  Mr.  W.'s  message  to  him,  which  will  be 
noticed  elsewhere,  proceeds:  "Humility  is  conspicuous  in 
him  to  a  surprising  degree,  united  with  a  most  deep  s«nse  of 
the  awful  responsibility  which  rests  on  him,  in  consequence 
of  his  having  written  so  much  on  such  important  subjects." 

"Monday's  letter  only  reports  him  "much  weaker  in  body, 
but  more  calm  in  mind;  anxious  for  departure,  but  yet  will- 
ing to  stay,  if  he  might  do  any  spiritual  good  to  any  one." 

On  Tuesday,  March  27,  my  brother  wrote  as  follows: — 
"Our  dear  father  appeared  all  yesterday  evening  in  a  very 
tranquil  state,  and  slept  much;  but  expecting  that  he  should 
not  live  through  the  night.  About  half  past  two  this  morn- 
ing Mr.  Dawes  went  to  him,  and  found    that  he  had  slept 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  349 

comfortably.  His  pulse  was  then  only  eighty  in  the  minute. 
He  went  to  him  again  at  half  past  six,  and  was  astonished  to 
find  that  it  had  risen  to  one  hundred  and  fifty-six!  and  was 
very  feeble,  fluttering,  and  irregular:  in  short,  every  symp- 
tom almost  portended  a  speedy  dissolution,  and  all  the  family 
were  collected  in  the  room  expecting  his  departure.  But 
a  cordial  draught  had  the  effect  of  relieving  the  urgent 
symptoms;  and,  in  consequence  of  this  little  revival,  we 
have  been  favored,  yet  exquisitely  wounded,  with  a  number 
of  most  touching  expressions  of  his  affectionate  regard,  and 
have  gained  a  very  interesting  view  of  the  state  of  his  mind. 
What  we  can  hear  him  say,  while  sitting  by  his  bed-side, 
has  reminded  me  of  an  operation  said  to  have  been  lately 
performed  in  France,  by  which,  a  part  of  the  ribs  being  re- 
moved, it  was  discovered  that  the  pericardium  in  the  living 
subject  is  transparent,  and  the  whole  heart  was  seen  per- 
forming all  its  functions.  You  will  understand  the  applica- 
tion of  this,  from  the  expression  of  one  of  his  truly  affection- 
ate servants:  'Oh,  what  a  comfort  it  is,  that  my  master 
thinks  aloud.'' — His  desires  after  spiritual  enjoyments  appear 
unbounded;  and  he  cannot  be  fully  satisfied,  because  he  can- 
not enjoy  on  earth  what  belongs  only  to  heaven. 

"He  sleeps  a  good  deal  this  morning:  but  we  see,  or 
think  we  see  the  rapid  approaches  of  death;  so  that  I  should 
not  wonder,  if  before  the  post-hour  I  should  have  to  announce 
to  you,  that  the  Lord  has  heard  his  prayers,  and  given  him 
a  release  from  all  his  troubles  and  sufferings.  Indeed, 
humanly  speaking,  this  would  have  taken  place  long  ere 
this  time,  had  it  not  beeu  for  the  exceedingly  great  and  un- 
remitting attention  of  Mr.  Dawes,  who  has  watched  him  hy 
night  as  well  as  by  day,  and,  in  a  most  skilful  manner,  ap- 
plied every  palliative,  which  the  nature  of  the  case  could 
admit.  I  cannot  but  look  on  it,  as  a  very  merciful  interposi- 
tion of  providence,  that,  at  a  period  of  life  when  my 
father  wanted  the  active  attendance  of  a  young  person,  and 
all  his  own  children  were  removed  from  him,  such  a  one 
was  found  to  supply  our  place.  Dawes,  indeed,  seems  to 
love  him  as  if  he  were  one  of  his  own  children:  or,  if  there 
be  (as  indeed  there  must  be)  the  absence  of  the  peculiar 
feelings  of  natural  affection,  that  very  circumstance  better 
qualifies  him  for  the  kind  office  which  he  has  sustained 
during  this  trying  season;  by  enabling  him  to  apply  his 
judgment  to  the  case,  with  somewhat  more  coolness,  than 
we  could  have  done,  even  had  we  possessed  equal  skill," 
30 


3o0  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVL 

The  circumstance  noticed  in  this  letter,  and  on  which 
both  my  brother  and  the  domestic  congratulate  themselves, 
was  very  much  owing  to  the  deafness  of  my  dear  father, 
which  led  him  to  express  audibly  whatever  passed  in  his 
mind,  almost  without  being  aware  of  it. 

The  latter  part  of  the  letter,  I  have  thought  it  due  to  the 
affection  and  the  services  of  a  very  promising  young  man  to 
insert.  Mr.  W.  R.  Dawes,  who  has  been  already  alluded  to 
as  first  my  father's  pupil,  and  subsequently  his  literary  as- 
sistant, has  for  some  time  past  regularly  devoted  himself  to 
the  medical  profession,  with  every  prospect  of  credit  to 
himself  and  advantage  to  others;  and  his  residence  in  the 
house  was  no  doubt  a  great  comfort  and  assistance  both  to 
the  venerable  sufferer,  and  his  mourning  family,  during  the 
scenes  which  these  letters  describe. 

This  evening  my  father's  nephew,  the  Rev.  T.  Webster, 
arrived,  to  take  a  last  farewell  of  h>  uncle. 

The  account  sent  me  the  next  d^y  was  very  gratifyin":,  but 
I  was  not  in  Hull  to  receive  it.  Having  been  released  by  a 
change  of  circumstances  at  home,  I  that  day  set  out  for 
Aston,  where  f  arrived  the  next  evening.  Still,  however, 
communications  we're  continued  to  the  absent  members  of 
the  family,  and  to  some  friends,  which  will  furnish  me  with 
further  extracts.  My  sister's  letter  of  this  day  (Wednesday, 
March  28,)  contained  the  following  sentences: — 

"Our  beloved  father  is  still  with  us;  and,  did  not  bis  pulse 
indicate  approaching  dissolution,  we  should  scarcely  think  it 
possible  that  a  dying  man  could  speak  and  think  with  the 
energy  and  clearness  he  does.  O  that  you  were  here! 
How  would  it  rejoice  your  heart  to  witness  his  calm  and 
heavenly  spirit;  his  humihty,  faith,  tenderness,  and  love. 
He  seems  the  most  like  his  Savior  of  any  mortal  I  ever  be- 
held: yet,  stilllonging  for  more  holiness.  Never,  indeed, 
will  he  be  satisfied  till  he  enters  the  realms  of  eternal  bliss. 
— The  agitation  of  mind,  under  which  he  did  labor,  we  trust 
is  finally  dispersed.  He  sometimes  expresses  a  fear  of  the 
last  struggle:  yet,  in  general,  speaks  of  it  with  composure 
and  confidence. — I  cannot  tell  you  how  bur  dread  of  separa- 
tion from  him  is  increased,  since  he  has  shewn  such  tender 

affection,  and  has  become  so  ready  to  talk  to  us  all 

But  I  trust  God  will  support  us,  and  that  we  shall  all  derive 
great  and  lasting  benefit  from  the  scene  passing  before  us." 

Friday,  March  30,  I  thus  made  my  report  of  the  state  in 
which  I  found  things: 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  351 

"It  was  not  till  some  hours  after  my  arrival  that  I  could 
conveniently  see  my  dear  father,  as  he  was,  and  had  been 
through  the  day,  in  a  slumbering  state;  and,  as  an  accession 
of  fever  was  then  comins^  on,  it  was  desirable  that  he 
should  be  kept  quiet.  He  had  expressed  a  fear,  that,  if  I 
came,  it  would  add  to  his  troubles,  by  producing  anxiety 
for  you;  and,  when  I  saw  him,  he  asked,  with  whom  I  had 
left  you  in  charge. 

"HiS  illness  has  been  quite  extraordinary  for  one  of  his 
age,  and  so  much  reduced:  the  fever  has  been  so  violent — 
his  color,  at  times,  almost  resembling  mahogany — and  his 
pulse  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  one  hundred  and  seven- 
ty.— Dr.  Slater  has  said,  since  Tuesday  in  last  week,  that 
he  could  do  nothing  for  his  restoration.  He  says  himself, 
that  the  powers  of  animal  life  feel  undiminished,  and  ho 
rather  dreads  lying  long  in  this  state. — Being  under  the  in- 
fluence of  fever  last  night,  he  had  lost  sight  of  the  joyful 
feelings  and  exulting  expressions  of  which  you  have  been  in- 
formed, and  was  but  gloomy.  He  had  a  tolerably  quiet  night, 
and  was  this  morning  more  free  from  fever,  but  looked  very 
death-like.  His  language  was  more  cheerful,  and  his  pray- 
ers of  an  elevated  kind;  as,  Hhat  he  might  be  one  of  those 
in  whom  Christ  shmdd  come  to  be  glorified  in  that  day^''  4'C.-— 
He  rather  triumphed  in  the  birth  of  our  little  girl,  and  im- 
plored blessings  on  'his  twenty-one  grand-children.'  He 
spefiksfrom  time  to  time,  more  impressively  and  with  more 
animation  to  his  grandson  Thomas,  than  to  almost  any  one 
else.  But  he  says  less  than  he  has  done,  and  is  more  dis- 
posed  to  slumber Poor  Betty  Moulder    looks  conli- 

dently  past  all  present  sulTerings,  and  past  the  remainder  of 
her  own  prospects  .in  this  life,  to  the  event  of  rejoining  him 
in  glory.  She  very  simply  and  fervently  said  to  him  the 
other  day,  'O,  Sir,  when  I  get  to  heaven,  and  have  seen 
Jesus  Christ,  the  very  next  person  I  shall  ask  for  will  be 
you!'  " 

i  continue  my  extracts,  and  shall  have  need  to  make  very 
little  addition  to  them. 

April  1st,  Sunday.  "The  day  before  yesterday  my  father 
seemed  very  weak  and  sinking,  and  we  thought  he  would 
not  live  through  the  night:  but  yesterday  he  was  stronger, 
and  to  day  is  better,  1  think,  than  on  Friday.  Upon  the 
whole,  he  has  been  more  cheerful." 

April  3d,  Tuesday.  "Several  fresh  and  unfavorable 
symptoms  have   appeared — a  degree   of  diarrhoea,   which 


332  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVL 

cannot  he  checked,  and  some  spots  upon  the  feet  which 
threaten  mortification.  He  is,  indeed,  a  pitiable  object  of 
weakness  and  suffering:  but  his  mind  is,  in  most  respects 
vigorous,,  and  his  memory  quick  and  correct.  His  parox- 
ysms of  lever  have  not  lately  come  on  as  they  did,  and  his 
mind  htis  in  consequence  been  more  calm  and  peaceful:  but 
his  pulse  has  maintained  the  extraordinary  height  I  before' 
mentioned — one  hundred  and  seventy.  It  is  most  edifying 
to  observe  his  solemn  earnestness,  profound  humility,  cfeav- 
ing  to  Christ  alone,  and  fervent  love  and  kindness  to  all 
about  him.  His  attention  to  the  feelings  of  every  body  is 
surprising  and  beautiful.  His  extreme  deafness  is  a  sad  ob- 
struction, and  causes  him  to  be  left  almost  to  his  own  re- 
sources. We  can  attempt  little  by  address  to  him:  but  he 
most  kindly  receives  any  hint  which  one  suggests  by  shout- 
ing- in  his  ear.  He  has  dreaded  hving  long  under  increas- 
ing suffering,  lest  this  should  lead  him  to  impatience.  The 
other  night,  when  he  asked,  under  these  apprehensions, 
'When  Avill  this  end?'  I  rcpUed,  laying  my  head  down  by 
his,  4n  God's  good  time.'  'Ah,'  he  said,  4hat  is  a  good  ex- 
pression— God's  good  time:  I  thank  you  for  it:'  and  he  has 
dwell  upon  it  ever  since,  and  mentioned  it  almost  every 
time  1  have  seen  him." 

To  the  Rev.  D.  Wilson,  April  5th,  Thursday.  "My  very 
dear  friend,  I  have  now  been  here  a  week,  watching  over  the 
dying  bed  of  my  dear  honored  father,  and  daily  expecting 
his  dissolution.  It  is  a  deeply  affecting  and  edifying  scene; 
and  what  passed  before  I  could  come,  was,  1  suppose,  more 
interesting  still.  In  every  thing  hut  comfort  his  state  may 
be  said  to  be  even  sublimely  Christian.  Such  an  awiul  sense 
•of  eternal  things,  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  of  the  holiness  of 
God — such  profound  self-abasement — such  cleaving  unto 
Christ  alone-^such  patience,  resignation,  and  unlimited  sub- 
mission to  the  will  of  God — such  a  constant  spirit  of  fer- 
vent prayer — such  pouring  forth  of  blessings  on  all  around 
him — with  such  minute  and  tender  attention  to  all  their 
feelings — it  is  truly  admirable  to  behold.  His  state  is 
bright  in  every  one's  view  but  his  own.  To  his  own  ap- 
prehension, he  in  great  measure  zi^alks  in  darkness.  I  have 
myself  scarcely  witnessed  a  gleam  of  joy.  His  habitual 
temj|M  'is  rather  that  which  the  words  of  Job  describe, 
Though  he  slay  me,  yet  ivill  I  trust  in  him. — This  is  otlen 
painful,  sometimes  it  is  discouraging  to  our  feelings:  yeU 
we  are  sensible  that  there  is  a  call  upon  us  for  unbounded 
gratitude  and  praise. 


2S21.]  AND  DEATH.  353 

"Indeed,  it  cannot  be  wondered  at,  that  my  dear  lather 
should  have  much  to  contend  with,  considering  how  his 
mind  has  been  absolutely  worn  down  by  labor,  without  in- 
termission or  recreation — the  extraordinary  fact  of  his 
pulse  having  been  now  for  ten  days  at  one  hundred  and 
seventy — and  his  deafness,  which  almost  entirely  shuts  him 
up,  and  leaves  him  to  his  own  resources.  We  cannot  pmy 
with  him,  to  make  him  hear.  Thrice,  indeed,  he  has  re- 
ceived the  sacrament,  with  edifying  and  most  aftecting  so- 
lemnity; and  then,  from  his  knowledge  of  the  words,  aided 
by  painful  vociferation  on  the  part  of  the  person  officiating, 
be  could  follow  the  service.  One  of  these  occasions  was 
succeeded  with  blessed  relief  and  comfort  to  his  mind:  but, 
as  he  says,  the  clouds  return  after  the  rain. — 1  am  very  shy  of 
addressing  one,  to  whom  1  so  much  look  up:  but  occasion- 
ally the  attempt  to  convey  to  his  ear  some  sentence  of  God's 
word  has  succeeded;  and  it  is  so  kindly  and  thankfully  re- 
ceived as  is  very  affecting.  But  we  are  obliged  to  keep,  on 
these  occasions,  almost  entirely  to  first  principles — such  as 

the  coming  of  the  sinner  to  the  Savior A  great  part  of 

his  time  he  has  prayed  and  thought  aloud,  as  insensible  of 
the  presence  of  any  fellow  creature;  and  the  train  of  his 
thoughts,  thus  discovered,  have  been  striking,  and  often 
highly  elevated.  Thus:  'Posthumous  reputation!  the  veri- 
est bubble  with  which  the  devil  ever  deluded  a  wretched 
mortal.  But  posthumous  usefulness^ — in  that  there  is  indeed 
something.  That  was  what  Moses  desired,  and  .Joshua, 
and  David,  and  the  prophets;  the  apostles  also,  Peter,  and 
Paul,  and  John;  and  most  of  all  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.' — 
Again:  'O  Lord,  abhor  me  not — though  I  be  indeed  abhorri- 
hle^  and  abhor  myself!  Say  not.  Thou  filthy  soul,  continue 
filthy  still:  but  rather  say,  /  will.,   be  thou  clean.''  " 

April  9th,  Monday.  '^The  only  fresh  symptom  is  great 
drowsiness,  which  is  thought  some  indication  of  elfusion  on 
the  brain;  tlie  eflfect  of  which  might  be  expected  to  be  stu- 
por and  insensibility:  and  his  continuance  would  then,  prob- 
ably, not  be  long.  He  greatly  needs  the  piiy  and  prayers 
of  you  all,  and  earnestly  asks  them." 

April  1 1  th,  Wednesday.  "My  dear  father  still  continue^, 
and,  I  hope,  suffers  less,  though  he  grows  much  weaker. 
Thank  God,  his  gloom  seems  very  mucii  to  have  disMp^d. 
'I  have  not,'  he  lately  said,  'that  fear  of  dpath  v^^h  I 
had.'  (Qn.  of  the  act  of  dying?)  And  yesterday:  '1  find 
myself  much  more  able  to  approach  unto  God  than  I  was: 


354  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Ghap.   XVL 

but  such  a  sense  of  unworthiness  and  defilement,  as  I  can- 
not express.' — On  parting  with  us  last  night,  he  said,  'God 
knows  how  well  I  love  you  all:  but  I  have  no  wish  to  see 
any  of  you  again  in  this  world.     Do  not  think  this  cruel.'  " 

My  brothers  had  been  obliged  to  return  to  their  respec- 
tive homes  on  Tuesday,  and  did  not  reach  Aston  again  till 
after  his  death. 

To  the  Rev.  Dr.  Ryland,  Bristol,  Friday,  April  13. — "I 
am  happy  to  say,  as  his  weakness  increases,  I  hope  his  pos- 
itive suffering  is  habitually  less;  and  his  mind  appears  gen- 
erally calm  and  cheerful.  He  says  very  little;  but  what 
he  does  drop  is  of  a  gratifying  kind. — On  the  whole,  his 
closing  scene,  notwithstanding  these  passing  clouds,  is  evi- 
dently worthy  of  his  Christian  character  and  hopes:  and 
we  have  great  cause  to  bless  God  without  ceasing,  on  his 
behalf  Certainly  we  ought  also  to  be  much  editied  and  ex- 
cited by  what  we  witness. — At  times  he  expresses  consid- 
erable apprehension  of  the  pang  of  death  itself.  I  hope,  in 
this  his  fears  may  prove  groundless.  I  am  sure  your  pray- 
ers for  him  will  not  be  wanting  while  he  continues;  and 
when  any  change  takes  place  we  will  not  fail  to  inform  you." 

At  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  Monday,  April  16th,  I 
wrote  to  my  daughter,  at  Hull,  as  follows: 

"Half  an  hour  ago,  your  dear  blessed  grandpapa  ceased 
to  breathe.  It  was  literally  this  and  no  more.  Thus  has  he 
eventually  been  spared  even  the  least  object  of  his  fear. 
His  mind  had  been  peaceful  and  happy  of  late.  Oh  how 
peaceful  does  he  now  look!  Not  a  groan,  not  a  sigh  escaped 
him  at  the  end.  We  are  as  composed  as  could  be  expect- 
ed.— But  1  can  hardly  save  the  post. — May  our  last  end 
be  like  his!" 

The  next  day  I  wrote  home  a  more  particular  account 
of  the  closing  scene,  than  either  the  time  or  tha  circum- 
stances would  allow  that  evening. 

April  17th,  Tuesday.  "For  two  days  my  dear  father 
coughed  almost  incessantly,  though  not  violently;  which 
was  accompanied  with  frequent  expectoration.  But  on 
Saturday  this  almost  entirely  ceased.  In  consequence  an 
increased  difficulty  of  breathing  succeeded,  and  we  feared 
suffocation  might  take  place.  On  Sunday  night  he  was 
very  ill,  so  as  to  make  us  apprehend  his  death  was  at  hand. 
On  Monday  morning  he  was,  for  a  time,  a  good  deal  bet- 
ter: but  the  oppression  returned  and  increased.  Nothing 
immediate  was  anticipated,  wken  his  death  actually  ap- 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  355 

proached.  1  had  taken  a  walk,  and  on  my  return  visited 
his  chamber.  We  then  all  came  down  to  tea;  in  the  course 
of  which  it  was  remarked,  that  it  did  not  seem  quite  well 
for  him  to  be  left  attended  only  by  a  servant,  as  her  grief 
appeared  to  distress  him.  I  said,  I  would  go  up  immediately. 
I  did  so:  but  Dawes  had  anticipated  me.  He  had  found  my 
father  worse,  dismissed  the  servant,  and  was  supporting 
him,  nearly  in  an  erect  posture,  upon  his  arm.  I  said, 
'This  cannot  surely  last  long:'  and  D.  repUed,  'Not  through 
the  night,  I  think.'  I  looked  in  his  face,  and  saw  his  eyes 
in  some  degree  turn  upwards,  which  I  pointed  out  to  D. 
(who  was  rathert)ehind  him,)  and  he  immediately  said,  'You 
had  better  tell  those  who  wish  to  see  him  again  to  come.' 
I  did  so  in  a  calm  manner,  and  went  before  them.  He  was 
sinking  as  quietly  as  an  infant  dropping  asleep,  and  with  u 
beautiful  look  of  composure.  My  mother  and  sister  wished 
to  come  in,  and,  on  my  saying  there  was  nothing  to  shock 
them,  they  did  so.  We  all  looked  on  for  a  minute  or  two, 
while  the  last  respirations  quietly  ebbed  away — so  to  speak. 
So  far  from  feeUng  shocked,  it  was  a  reUef  to  all  oui;  minds 
to  see  such  labor,  as  his  breathing  had  been,  subside  into 
such  sweet  peace  and  ease. — He  had  been  peaceful  and 
happy,  on  the  whole,  for  several  days,  .ind  on  Sunday,  and 
on  the  morning  of  Monday,  had  said  some  delightful  things. 
— His  mind  was  clear  to  the  last  "moment;  and,  1  believe,  in 
the  article  of  death  itself,  he  suiTered  much  less  than  for 
many  hours,  or  even  days  before — The  last  effort  which 
he  made  was  to  stretch  out  his  hand  to  his  servant,  when 
she  was  about  to  leave  the  room.  A  very  little  time  be- 
fore he  had  affectionately  shaken  hands  with  me. — He  had 
been  shaved  only  two  hours  and  a  half  before  his  death,  and 
at  that  time  he  opened  his  shirt  neck,  and  put  all  out  of  the 
way  for  the  operation. 

'•All  that  he  has  taught  and  done  is  now  sealed  by  his 
dying  testimony,  and  his  dying  example.  Ko  hlot  can  now 
come  upon  it  from  him;  which  was  so  long  and  so  much 
the  object  of  his  prayers.  Blessed  be  God; — More  heaven- 
ly dispositions,  surely,  could  not  be  exhibited  than  pre- 
vailed in  him  throughout  his  illness — even  when  he  walked 
in  darkness. — Not  one  of  all  his  fears  has  been  realized:  in- 
deed, they  all  vanished  away  one  by  one.  The  last  which 
he  expressed,  was,  on  Friday,  of  the  agony  of  death:  but 
where  was  ttie  agony  to  him?  Peace,  peace,  perfect  peace! 
All  our  hopes  have  been  exceeded.     The  close  has  been  a 


356  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVI 

cordial  to  us  all:  and  how  substantial  the  comfort!  The  con- 
stant prevalence  of  such  tempers,  under  the  most  trying  of 
circumstances, — how  much  superior  an  evidence  is  this,  to 
any  degree  of  confidence  unsupported  by  even  a  like  meas- 
ure of  meetness  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light!  .... 
He  was  pouring  out  his  blessings  and  prayers  for  the  dear 
children  to  a  very  late  period;  particularly  on  Saturday 
night,  (though  so  very  ill,)  when  reminded  that  it  was  Jane's 
birth-day." 

The  following  is  the  account  of  the  same  event  furnished 
to  Mr.  Wilson  by  the  faithful  and  affectionate  young  friend, 
in  whose  arms  my  father  expired: — 

"One  of  his  last  efforts  was  to  give  his  hand  to  his  weep- 
ing servant;  which  was  a  beautiful  evidence  that  the  ten- 
<ler  attention  to  the  feelings  of  those  around  him,  which 
inarked  his  whole  illness,  continued  to  form  a  prominent 
feature  in  his  state  of  mind  even  to  the  last.  After  this, 
which  took  place  about  five  minutes  before  his  death,  he 
appeared  to  he  lost  in  prayer;  but  just  at  the  moment  when 
he  reclined  his  head  on  my  breast,  the  expression  of  his 
countenance  suddenly  changed  from  that  of  prayer,  and  in- 
dicated, as  I  conceived,  a  transition  to  feelings  of  admiring 
and  adoring  praise,  with  a  calmness  and  peace  which  are 
•quite  inexpressible.  The  idea  strongly  impressed  upon  my 
mind  was,  that  the  vail  which  intercepts  eternal  things  from 
our  view  was  removed,  and  that,  hke  Stephen,  he  saw 
things  invisible  to  mortal  eye." 

Since  these  pages  were  prepared  for  press,  another  ac- 
count of  the  closing  scene,  drawn  up  by  my  sister,  only  as 
a  private  memorandum  has  come  into  my  hands,  and  I  feel 
unwilling  to  withhold  it. 

''•On  the  evening  of  Sunday  his  breath  became  dreadfully 
oppressed,  ami  we:.toodby  in  great  alarm  and  distress,  wit- 
nessing his  agonies.  He  was  delightfully  calm  and  tenderly 
affectionate:  desired  us  to  go  to  supper,  as  we  needed  re- 
freshment, and  gave  us  his  parting  blessing.  He  said  to  me, 
'Give  my  dying  blessing  to  your  husband,  and  his  father  and 
mother.'' 

"He  however  revived  again,  and  on  Monday  seemed  rath- 
er better;  though  his  inability  to  throw  off  the  phlegm, 
which  accumulated  in  great  quantities,  convinced  us  that 
his  end  was  approaching. 

"On  Mr.  D.'s  feeling  his  pulse,  be  inquired,  'Any  change? 
Any  token  for  good?'  Mr    D.    answered,  4  think  you  are 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  357 

not  so  ill  as  you  were  in  the  morning.'  '•Very  well,'  was 
his  reply:  'Thy  will,  O  Lord,  be  done!' 

"About  the  middle  of  the  day,  fever  again  came  on,  and 
he  appeared  restless  and  distressed.  He  said,  'Some  hours 
this  morning  passed  very  comfortably.  It  was  something- 
like  godliness:  but  now  my  mind  is  confused,  and  I  cannot  fix 
my  thoughts.' — His  breath  in  the  afternoon  became  short, 
and  his  sufferings  appeared  great;  but  on  my  mother's  la- 
menting his  distress  in  breathing,  be  said,  'It  is  by  no  means 
so  great  as  last  night.' — He  had  frequently  said  in  the  pre- 
ceding week,  when  we  thought  him  -lying,  laying  his  hand 
on  his  chest,  'Nothing  fails  Acre:  I  may  live  weeks  as  I  now 
am.'  But  for  the  last  day  or  two  he  had  perceived  a  dif- 
ference in  this  respect,  and  often  noticed  it,  saying,  ^Here  it 
is — the  oppression  is  ^Ireadful!  Lord  support  me!  Receive 
my  spirit!' — About  four  or  five  o'clock  the  flush  left  his  face, 
and  he  became  calm,  and  again  able  to  resume  his  constant 
work  of  prayer  and  praise.  He,  however,  spoke  little  to 
be  understood,  but  his  hands  and  eyes  were  continually  lift- 
ed up  to  heaven.  He  occasionally  looked  round  upon  us 
with  unutterable  tenderness  and  affection,  though  sometimes 
with  a  mixture  of  reproach  when  he  witnessed  our  tears. 
His  countenance  expressed  what  he  had  said  to  my  mother 
a  day  or  two  before:  'Can  any  rational  being  grieve  at  my 
departure?  If  you  thought  I  was  going  to  be  miserable,  you 
might  mourn;  but  surely  not  as  it  is.'  On  her  reply,  that 
she  could  not  help  it,  he  said,  'Nature  will  have  its  first 
burst  of  sorrow:  but  you  will  soon  learn  to  view  the  subject 
in  its  true  light.' 

"He  seemed  about  half  past  six  almost  disquieted  by  see- 
ing the  bitter  distress  of  a  servant  who  sat  by  him,  and  re- 
peatedly shook  his  head  as  a  sign  that  she  should  moderate 
her  grief  As  her  feelings  became  ungovernable,  she  rose 
to  leave  the  room:  which  when  he  perceived,  he  made  an 
attempt  to  take  his  hand  out  of  bed,  to  give  her  before  she 
went:  but  his  weakness  prevented  his  succeeding-  It  was 
his  last  effort.  He  soon  after  made  a  sign  to  Mr.  D.  to  raise 
his  head.  Mr.  D.  took  him  in  his  arms;  he  laid  his  head  on 
his  shoulder,  and  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven;  a  look  of  unut- 
terable joy,  an  expression  of  glory  begun,  came  over  his 
whole  countenance,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  without  sigh  or 
struggle,  without  even  a  discomposed  feature,  he  sweetly 
slept  in  Jesus.  We  all,  even  my  poor  mother,  stood  by  and 
were   comforted.     We  could  liardly  conceive  it  could  be 


358  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chaf.  XVI. 

death;  and  when  assured  by  Mr.  D.,  who  still  held  him  in 
his  arms,  that  the  heart  had  ceased  to  beat,  our  first  words 
were  praise  and  thanksgiving  to  that  God,  who  had  dehver- 
ed  him  from  every  fear,  from  all  evil,  and  received  him  to 
his  eternal  kingdom  and  glory. — We  soon  indeed  awoke  to 
the  sense  of  our  own  irreparable  loss.  To  the  end  of  hfe 
we  must  mourn  such  a  wise  counsellor,  bright  example,  and 
fervent  intercessor.  Yet  never  can  we  think  of  hmi  with- 
out blessing  and  praising  God  on  his  behalf,  for  all  he  did 
for  him  and  hy  him;  for  having  so  long  preserved  to  us  such 
a  treasure, — even  till, .we  humbly  trust,  we  through  grace 
have  a  blessed  hope  of  all  being  at  length  re-united  with 
him  in  the  realms  of  endless  blis.^l 

"•It  is  not  easy  to  describe  the  deep  grief  of  his  people, 
"when  the  mournful  event  was  made  known  in  the  village 
and  neighborhood.  'Our  friend  is  gone!'  'We  have  lost 
our  friend!''  were  the  lamentations  of  the  poor  on  every 
side.  Even  the  most  stupid  and  thoughtless  of  his  parish- 
ioners were  roused  to  feeling  on  this  occasion.  Numbers  of 
the  parish  and  neighborhood  came  to  take  a  last  look,  and 
stood  by  the  corpse  overwhelmed  with  grief, — many  of 
whom  had  paid  little  attention  to  his  instructions  while  Hv- 
ing.'^ 

Mr.  Wilson  remarks: — "Upon  such  a  departure  no  feeling 
but  that  of  gratitude  and  joy  can  arise  in  the  Christian's 
breast,  unless  perhaps  a  momentary  regret  should  cross  the 
mind  for  the  extremity  of  suff(?ring  which  our  friend  was 
called  to  endure.  But  that  will  soon  subside  into  submis- 
sion, when  we  recollect  the  calmness  with  which  the  bles- 
sed apostle  in  our  text  speaks  oi  his  own  still  more  violent 
death.  For  the  Christian  will  behold  in  both,  not  so  much 
the  external  circumstances  or  the  personal  anguish,  as  the 
principle  on  which  they  were  supported,  and  the  accept- 
ance with  which  they  were  crowned.  Yes,  my  brethren, 
the  dissolution  of  our  venerable  friend,  though  not,  like  the 
inspired  apostle's,  a  martyrdom  for  the  cause  of  Christ,  in 
■which  he  poured  out  his  blood  as  a  libation;  yet,  so  far  as 
intense  sufferings  from  the  ordinary  attacks  of  disease,  and 
the  superadded  assaults  of  Satan,  gave  him  the  occasion  of 
testifying  his  faith  and  patience,  of  confirming  his  fidelity  to 
Christ,  of  displaying-  for  the  instruction  and  encouragement 
of  the  surviving  church,  a  most  affecting  scene  of  a  dying 
disciple  adhering  to  his  Savior  under  the  bitterest  tempta- 
tions and  most  oppressive  conflicts,  and  then  falling  asleep 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  359 

with  peace  and  resignation;  his  death  was  a  sacred  act,  the 
consummation  of  his  devotedness  to  God.  And  his  compos- 
ure, not  only  in  contemplating  his  departure  when  near,  but 
in  enduring  it  and  supporting  it  when  it  arrived,  surrounded 
as  it  was  with  circumstances  calculated  to  dismay  an  ordi- 
nary faith,  formed  a  striking  exemplification  of  the  Chris- 
tian fortitude  which  is  so  nobly  evinced  by  the  blessed  apos- 
tle in  the  triumphant  passage  we  have  been  considering." 

The  funeral  took  place  on  the  Monday  following,  April 
23.  It  was  our  intention  to  act  strictly  according  to  his  own 
directions,  by  making  it  as  plain  and  private  as  possible. 
But,  as  the  hour  approached,  numbers  of  those  who  had 
enjoyed  his  acquaintance,  with  many  others  who  "esteemed 
him  highly  in  love  for  his  work's  sake," — some  of  them 
coming  from  a  very  considerable  distance, — began  to  collect 
around  the  church  and  the  parsonage-house.  On  the  pre- 
cession leaving  the  garden-gate,  it  was  attended  by  sixteen 
clergymen;  while  thirty  or  forty  respectable  females,  in 
full  mourning,  stood  ready,  in  double  line,  to  join  it  as  it 
passed  towards  the  church.  That  little  building  was  more 
crowded,  probably,  than  on  any  former  occasion;  and  a  large 
number  of  persons  collected  round  the  windows,  unable  to 
enter  for  want  of  room.  In  the  absence  of  the  Rev.  J.  H. 
Barber,  (the  present  rector,)  who  had  been  disappointed  of 
arriving  in  time,  the  funeral  service  was  read  by  the  Rev. 
S.  B.  Mathews,  curate  of  Stone.  The  Rev.  John  Hill,  vice- 
principal  of  St.  Edmund's  Hall,  Oxford,  addressed  the  con- 
gregation, previously  to  the  interment,  from  the  words  of 
dying  Jacob,  "1  have  waited  for  thy  salvation,  O  Lord!"  and 
the  very  appropriate  hymn  was  sung,  beginning, 

•'III  vain  my  fancy  strives  to  paint 
The  moment  after  death,"  &c. 

Mr.  Wilson's  funeral  sermon  was  preached  on  the  Friday 
following.  It  was  our  intention,  and  very  much  our  wish, 
that  it  should  have  been  deUvered  from  the  same  pulpit, 
whence  the  venerated  servant  of  Christ,  who  gave  occasion 
to  it,  had,  for  eighteen  years,  "declared  the  whole  counsel 
of  God:"  but  it  was  foreseen  that  the  little  church  at  Aston 
would  be  utterly  inadequate  to  receive  the  numbers  who 
would  desire  to  be  present.  The  neighboring  church  of 
Haddenham  therefore,  which  had  been  kindly  offered,  was 
thankfully,  though,  at  the  same  time,  somewhat  reluctantly 
accepted  for  the  service.     The  event  shewed  the  necessity 


1360  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Ghap.  XVI. 

of  making  the  exchange,  for  even  that  large  building  waa 
not  sufficient  to  accommodate  the  crowds  who  assembled. 
The  appearance  of  the  congregation,  in  which  a  large  pro- 
portion of  all  ranks  had  provided  themselves  with  mourning, 
evinced  how  highly  my  dear  father  was  esteemed  in  the 
neighborhood,  though  his  infirmities  and  engagements  had 
conspired  for  a  long  time  past  to  confine  him  within  the 
limits  of  his  own  village. 

Before  I  proceed  to  other  documents,  I  will  lay  before  the 
reader  a  few  short  extracts  of  letters  from  different  members 
of  the  family,  shewing  the  view  which  they  took  of  the 
whole  scene,  in  proportion  as  they  were  enabled  to  look  back 
upon  it  more  dehberately,  and  with  greater  composure, 

April  20.  ''We  feel  that  we  have  had  a  grand  and  most 
edifying  Christian  spectacle  proposed  to  us:  far  more  strik- 
ing and  instructive  than  if  all  had  been  smooth." 

April  25.  '4t  was  a  great  fear  of  my  dear  father's,  that 
his  death-bed  scene  should  depress  any  of  us,  particularly 
myself  How  much  otherwise  has  been  the  effect!  I  do 
confess  that  the  contemplation  of  the  whole,  in  all  its  con- 
nexions, produces  such  an  effect,  that  I  cannot  feel  depressed 
at  present." — (The  letter  in  reply  to  which  this  was 
written,  brought  some  painful  intelligence.) — '^After  see- 
ing fears  so  disappointed,  (if  I  may  use  the  expression,) 
and  prayers  so  answered,  I  cannot  but  indulge  hope." 

May  29  "When  I  dare  to  recal  past  scenes,  1  hope 
I  do  it  with  much  praise  and  thankfulness,  mingled  with 
my  sorrow:  and  I  really  do  think,  that  even  the  most  pain- 
ful part  of  your  beloved  father's  experience  affords  mat- 
ter rather  of  gratitude  than  of  grief  As  1  observed  be- 
fore, it  reminded  me  of  a  fine  sun-set,  heightened  by  the 
dark  and  gloomy  clouds  tinted  with  gold;  and  1  certainly 
think  the  scene  aff'orded  more  to  warn,  excite,  and  in- 
terest us,  than  a  more  serene  and  unclouded  one  would 
have  done. — Som^e  of  our  best  feelings  were,  1  trust, 
drawn  out  on  this  most  melancholy  and  affecting  occa- 
sion, and  our  hearts  still  more  than  before  united  in  ten- 
der aff'cction." 

June  2.  "I  remain  in  a  very  debihtated  state.  .  .  .  My 
mind  too,  after  all  its  over-excitement  at  Aston,  has  sunk 
almost  into  what  the  doctors  call  a  collapsed  state;  -and  it 
seems  sometimes  as  torpid  as  its  companion.  I  do  not,  how- 
ever, mean  by  this  to  say,  that  the  eff'ects  of  what  I 
Jiave  so  lately  witnessed    and  experi&nced  have  entirely 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  361 

subsided.  I  would  not  thus  undervalue  the  goodness  of 
God;  who,  by  means  of  the  bereavement  we  have  lately 
sustained,  and  all  its  attendant  circumstances,  has  done  me, 
I  would  fain  hope,  permanent  good. — I  often  look  back  with 
joy  and  gratitude  to  our  delightful  meeting, — for  delightful 
certainly  it  was,  though  mingled  with  such  exquisite  pain. 
Surely  it  was  a  foretaste  of  that  time,  when,  I  humbly  trust, 
we  shall  all  be  reunited  in  the  realms  of  eternal  bliss! — 
You  ask  for  my  now  calmer  reflections:  but  I  cannot  yet 
think  calmly  on  what  has  passed.  My  heart  overflows 
with  a  strange  mixture  of  feelings,  whenever  my  thoughts 
turn  that  way.  Those  of  a  joyful  nature,  however,  pre- 
dominate. The  amazing  goodness  of  God  to  me  and  mine 
— our  past  happiness— our  future  prospects — at  times 
quite  overpower  my  mind,  and  I  seem  almost  lost  in  'won- 
der, love,  and  praise.' — But  I  am  afraid  of  yielding  to  these 
happy  emotions,  lest  they  should  not  rest  on  a  secure  foun- 
dation, as  regards  myself:  and  yet,  perhaps,  a  merciful  God 
bestows  them,  as  a  cordial  to  support  me  under  my  depress- 
ing maladies;  and  ought  I  to  turn  aw?iy  from  the  cup  of 
cons'olation  which  he  so  graciously  puts  into  my  hand,  un- 
worthy as  I  am  of  the  least  of  his  mercies? — Many  things 
which  passed  have  led  me  to  a  more  constant  and  careful 
perusal  of  the  Bible  than  formerly:  and  most  richly  have  I 
been  rewarded  by  such  views  of  the  wondrous  things  of  God's 
law^  as  I  never  before  enjoyed." 

August  2.  "Whenever  I  contemplate  his  close,  I  seem 
to  derive  from  it  a  deeper  conviction  of  the  importance  and 
excellence  of  religion,  and  of  the  vast  hold  it  had  upon  his 
mind." 

1  shall  only  now  detain  the  reader  from  the  memorandums 
which  were  made  of  what  fell  from  my  father's  lips  dur- 
ing his  illness,  while  I  submit  some  extracts  and  remarks 
on  that  degree  of  darkness  and  depression,  which  was  inter- 
mingled with  sensations  of  a  diflferent  kind  in  his  experience 
at  this  time. 

In  a  letter,  dated  February  21,  before  the  commencement 
of  my  father's  illness,  the  Rev.  W.  Richardson,  of  York, 
had  remarked  generally,  referring  to  him,  "Deep  thinkers, 
and  highly  gifted  persons,  are  seldom  favored  with  such  joy 
and  peace  in  believing  as  are  experienced  by  common 
minds.  Men  must  always  pay  the  penalty  annexed  to  pre- 
eminence above  their  fellows." 
31 


3^2  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVI. 

The  following  were  the  reflections  made  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  his  conflicts  of  this  kind,  in  the  obituary  published 
in  the  Christian  Observer,  soon  after  his  decease: 

"Under  all  the  circumstances  of  such  a  case,  to  have  ex- 
pected that  Mr.  Scott's  mind  should  be  kept  uniformly 
cheerful,  and  filled  with  bright  anticipations,  would  not 
only  have  been  to  expect  little  less  than  a  miracle,  but  would 
have  shewn  a  defective  acquaintance  with  the  operations  of 
the  human  mind,  and  with  God's  dealings  with  his  most  es- 
tablished and  matured  servants.  The  sagacious  and  obsep" 
vant  Bunyan  took  a  different  view  of  the  subject!  and  ac- 
cordingly he  represents  his  more  experienced  Christian  as 
encountering,  on  his  first  entrance  into  'the  river'  and  in 
some  parts  of  his  passage  a  degree  of  darkness  and  appre- 
hension, from  which  the  younger  disciple,  Hopeful^  is  mer- 
cifully exempted.  Is  not  this  natural  and  supported  by  facts?* 
The  deeper  views  which  such  characters  have  taken  of  sin; 
the  profounder  sense  they  have  of  their  own  unworthiness; 
their  more  awful  impressions  of  eternity;  the  apprehensions 
with  which  long  experience  has  inspired  them  with  the.dc- 
ceitfulness  of  the  human  heart;  and  the  ideas  which  both 
scripture  and  fact  have  taught  them  to  form  of  the  power 
and  malice  of  evil  spirits; — all  conspire  to  this  end.  More- 
over, it  is  a  common  observation,  that  where,  (as  in  the 
case  of  Abraham,)  Almighty  God  has  communicated  strong 
faith,  he  subjects  it  to  severe  trials.  If  any  can  conceive 
of  nothing  superior  to  present  comfort,  to  them  this  may  be 
puzzling;  but  it  need  not  be  so  to  others.  The  result,  in 
such  cases,  proves  honorable  to  God,  and  edifying  to  his 
saints.  What  tried  and  tempted  spirit,  for  example,  has  net 
been  animated  in  his  conflicts  by  the  exclamation  wrung 
from  holy  Job,    Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in   him? 

"Though,  however,  Mr.  Scott  passed  through  deep  wa- 
ters^ and  sometimes  walked  in  darkness  (Isa.  1,  10,)  during 
his  last  illness,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  this  was  hts 
constant,  or  even  his  habitual  situation;  much  less  that  fear 
of  the  final  event  prevailed  in  him.  No:  hope  as  to  that 
point  generally  predominated,  though  he  would  say,  ••Even 
one  fear,  where  infinity  is  at  stake^  is  suflicient  to  countervail 
all  its  consoHng  eifocts.'  But  the  present  conflict  was  se- 
vere; and  his  holy  soul  could  conceive  of  many  evils,  short 

*  The  readoi-  may  be  referrpd  to  Mr.  Scott's  own  observations  on  the 
passage  of  the  IMgriin's  Progress  alluded  to. 


1821.1  .  AND  DEATH.  363 

of  the  failure  of  final  salvation,  from  which  he  shrunk  back 
with  horror.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  these  distressing 
feelings  were  much  connected  with  the  disease  under  which 
he  labored,  as  they  increased  and  abated  again  with  the 
paroxysms  of  his  fever:  yet,  with  the  scriptures  in  our 
hands,  we  cannot  hesitate  to  concur  in  his  judgment,  that 
the  malignant  powers  of  darkness  took  advantage  of  this, 
in  a  peculiar  manner  to  harass  and  distress  him.  From 
time  to  time,  however,  the  clouds  dispersed,  and  the  ^sun 
of  righteousness  arose  upon  him  with  healing  iii  his  beams.''  " 

In  the  third  edition  of  his  funeral  sermons,  Mr.  Wilson  has 
added  the  following  note  upon  the  subject  of  my  father's 
sufferings,  both  mental  and  bodily: 

"The  remarkable  sufferings  of  so  eminent  a  saint,  in  his 
last  sickness,  may  perhaps  at  first  perplex  the  mind  of  a 
young  Christian.  But  such  a  person  should  remember  that 
the  way  to  heaven  is  ordinarily  a  way  of  tribulation;  and 
that  the  greatest  honor  God  puts  on  his  servants  is,  to  call 
them  to  such  circumstances  of  affliction  as  display  and  mani- 
fest his  grace.  What  would  have  crushed  a  weak  and  un- 
stable penitent,  with  immature  knowledge  of  the  promises 
of  salvation,  only  illustrated  the  faith  of  the  venerable  sub. 
ject  of  these  discourses.  God  adapts  the  burden  to  the 
strength. — As  to  the  anguish  and  darkness  which  at  times 
rested  on  his  mind,  they  were  clearly  the  combined  effects 
of  disease,  and  of  the  temptations  of  the  adversary.  The 
return  of  comfort,  as  his  fever  remitted,  made  this  quite  cer- 
tain; and  he  was  himself  able  at  times  to  make  the  distinc- 
tion. But  even  in  the  midst  of  his  afflictive  feelings,  it  is 
manifest  to  every  real  judge  of  such  a  case,  that  a  living 
and  strong  faith  was  in  vigorous  activity.  Almost  every  ex- 
pression detailed  by  me,  is  an  expression  of  this  principle. 
For  consolation  is  one  thing,  faith  another.  This  hitter 
grace  often  lays  hold  of  the  promises  made  in  Christ  with 
the  firmest  grasp,  at  the  very  time  when  hope  and  comfort 
are  interrupted  hy  the  morbid  state  of  the  bodily  and  mental 
powers.  Our  feelings  and  frames,  thank  God,  are  not  the 
foundation  on  which  we  build.  Never  perhaps  was  strong- 
er faith  exhibited  even  by  our  Savior  himself,  than  when 
he  uttered  those  piercing  words,  My  God^  my  God,  why 
hast  thou  forsaken  me? 

"But  it  may  be  further  remarked,  that  very  important 
ends  were  doubtless  to  be  answered  by  these  sufferings,  not 
only  to  the   church  generally,  as  I  have   already  observed. 


364  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVf. 

but  to  the  venerable  sufferer  himself.  Possibly  his  extraor- 
dinary talents,  his  extensive  success,  his  long  and  familiar 
acquaintance  with  all  the  topics  of  theology,  his  surprising 
influence  over  a  wide  circle  of  readers,  may  have  required 
this  last  struggle  to  check  every  remaining  tendency  to 
self-elevation,  and  make  him  feel  more  deeply  than  ever, 
what  he  confessed  through  life  in  so  unfeigned  a  manner, 
that  he  was  in  himself  nothing  but  a  most  guilty  and  unwor- 
thy sinner. 

"If,  however,  any  difficulty  remains,  it  is  more  than  suffi- 
cient to  say,  that  it  is  our  duty  to  resolve  such  cases  into 
the  unerring  wisdom  and  good  pleasure  of  God.  We  know 
nothing.  Our  concern,  both  as  to  ourselves  and  others,  is 
to  be  dumb,  and  not  open  our  mouths,  at  what  God  does. 
Happy,  infinitely  happy,  is  it  for  us  to  know,  that  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God,  and  that  no 
temptation  will  take  us  but  what  is  common  to  mau^  hut  that 
God  is  faithful,  who  will  not  suffer  us  to  he  tempted  above  that 
we  are  able;  but  will  with  the  temptation  also  make  a  way  to  es- 
cape, that  we  may  be  able  to  bear  it. 

*'Of  the  glory  which  follows,  and  swallows  up  all  these 
temporary  sufferings,  I  need  not  speak." 

In  reviewing  Mr.  W.'s  sermons,  the  Christian  Observer 
remarks  on  the  specimens  which  Mr.  W,  supplied  of  my  fa- 
ther's dying  expressions: 

"They  convey  to  our  minds  the  most  unequivocal  testi- 
mony of  a  frame  of  mind  the  best  suited  to  his  circum- 
stances, the  most  acceptable  to  God,  and  the  mosteheering 
to  those  deeply  interested  in  his  eternal  welfare.  It  is 
perfectly  true  that  indications  of  deep  thought — of  occa- 
sional perturbation — of  an  anxious  searching,  and  launch- 
ing forward,  as  it  were,  into  the  depths  and  obscurities  of 
futurity — and  of  the  heavy  pressure  of  sin  on  the  conscience 
discover  themselves  in  his  dying  declarations.  It  is  perfect- 
ly true  also  that  some  clouds  occasionally  interposed,  -apd 
veiled  to  his  sinking  eye,  for  the  moment,  the  glories  of 
the  invisible  world.  It  is  true,  that  his  dying  scene  pre- 
sents to  us  an  individual  walking  rather  in  the  twilight  of 
enjoyment,  where  the  sun  and  the  shade  were  struggling 
together  for  victory,  than  in  a  region  of  unmixed  happiness. 
But  are  not  such  thoughts  and  anxieties  the  natural  accom- 
paniments of  every  step  of  our  pilgrimage;  and,  if  finally 
dispersed  by  the  light  of  ftuth,  and  hope,  and  Christian  joy, 
does  not  their  presence  supply  even  a  stronger  evidence, 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  366 

to  the  bystander,  of  the  safety  of  the  individual,  than  their 
absence?  Undisturbed  serenity  may  be  undisturbed  delusion. 
A  calm  after  anxiety  is  a  victory  after  the  battle — is  the 
'palm'  when  the  battle  is  won.  And  such  was  the  case  of 
Mr.  Scott." 

Finally,  I  would  for  myself  avow,  more  strongly,  if  pos- 
sible, than  before,  though  without  any  design  to  retract  or 
weaken  the  influence  of  what  has  been  said  on  satanic  agen- 
cy, a  firm  conviction  that  the  gloom,  of  which  we  speak, 
was,  in  the  present  instance,  mainly  to  be  attributed  to  the 
force  of  disease;  which  has  the  power  of  producing  such 
effects,  and  effects  also  of  an  opposite  description,  beyond 
what  those  who  have  not  carefully  considered  the  subject 
are  at  all  aware.  The  following  sentence  is  no  doubt 
strictly  true  in  both  its  parts:  "Good  men  may  be  unreason- 
bly  depressed  and  dejected,  and  bad  men  supported  and 
elevated,  under  the  near  prospect  of  death,  from  the  mere 
operation  of  natural  causes."* — At  the  same  time,  the  rea- 
der has  been  called  to  observe,  and  in  what  is  to  follow  he 
will  still  further  perceive,  how  large  an  intermixture  there 
w^as  of  joyful,  as  well  as  of  dejected  sentiments,  in  the  case 
before  us. 

I  now  insert  the 

MEMORANDUMS 

made  during  my  father's  illness. 

My  sister  says  in  her  letter  of  March  21,  (above  page 
S48,)  ''The  first  days  I  was  here  I  could  do  nothing  but 
weep  and  pray."  Subsequently  she  says,  ''At  length, 
however,  I  was  roused  to  the  edifying  nature  of  the  scene, 
and  to  consider  how  beneficial  the  recollection  ^f  it  might 
hereafter  be  to  myself  and  others.  This  induced  me  to 
make  some  notes  of  what  passed." — These  are  as  follows: 

"In  the  time  of  his  darkness  and  gloom,  he  prayed  with- 
out ceasing,  and  with  inexpressible  fervor.  He  seemed 
unconscious  of  any  one  being  near  him,  and  gave  vent  to 
the  feelings  of  his  mind  without  restraint.  And,  oh!  what 
holy  feelings  were  they;  what  spirituality,  what  hatred  of 
sin,  what  humihty,  what  simple  faith  in  Christ,  what  zeal 
for  God's  glory,  what  submission!  Never  could  I  hear  him 
without  being  reminded    of  Him,  who,  being  in  an  agony, 

♦  Pearson's  Life  of  Hey. 
*31 


366  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVL 

prayed  the  more  earnestly;  and  whose  language  was,  My  God^ 
my  God ^  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?  Nevertheless^  Thou  con- 
tinuest  holy!  'I  think  nothing,'  he  said  of  'my  bodily  pains; 
my  soul  is  all.  I  trust  all  will  end  well;  but  it  is  a  dreadful 
conflict.  I  hope — I  fear — I  tremble — 1  pray.  Satan  tries 
to  be  revenged  on  me,  in  this  awful  hour,  for  all  that  I 
have  done  against  his  kingdom  through  life.  He  longs  to 
pluck  me  out  of  Christ's  hand.  Subdue  the  enemy,  O 
Lord!    Silence    the    accuserl  Bruise   Satan   under   my  feu 

SHOftTLy! 


Hide  me,  O  my  Savior  hWe, 

Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past, 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide, 

O  Feeeive  ray  sovU  at  last! 
Other  refuge  1  have  none!' 

— 'Oh,  to  enter  eternity  with  one  doubt  on  the  mind!  Eter- 
nity— Eternity — EternityP — ''People  talk  of  assurance  not 
being  attainable  in  this  world,  nor  perhaps  much  to  be  de- 
sired. They  and  the  devil  agree  on  this  point.' — »0  what  a 
thing  sin  is! — Who  knoweth  the  power  of  his  wrath?  If  this  be 
the  way  to  heaven,  what  must  the  way  to  hell  be?  If  the 
righteous  scarcely  be  saved^  where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the 
sinner  appear?'' 

"He  mentioned  the  wonderful  way  in  which  his  prayers 
for  others  had  been  answered;  and  seemed  to  derive  some 
comfort  from  the  reflection.  He  thought  he  had  failed  less 
in  the  dvdy  of  intercession  than  in  any  other!* 

''He  rejected  every  attempt  to  comfort  him  by  reminding 
him  of  the  way  in  which  he  had  served  and  gloriiied  God. 
'Christ  is  all,'  he  said:  'he  is  my  only  hope.  Hide  me,  O 
my  Savior,^  &,c.!  Other  refuge  have  I  wowe,'  &c. 

"In  the  midst  of  his  conflict  he  generally  expressed  hope 
©f  final  victory,  but  thought  lie  should  die  under  a  cloud. 
He  accused  himself  of  self-indulgence  and  slackness  in  pray- 
er; of  having  made  his  religious  labors  an  excuse  for  short- 
ness in  private  devotion. 

"There  was  an  astonishing  absence  of  selfish  feehng. 
Even  in  his  worst  hours  he  thought  of  the  health  of  us  all: 
observed  if  we  sat  up  long,  and  insisted  upon  our  retiring 
and  was  much  afraid  of  paining  or  hurting  us  in  any  way. 

*  Perhaps,  wlien  all  circumsfances  are  fully  considerefl,  there  is  not  a 
sentence  in  these  papers  more  remarkalile  than  this:  nor  a  fact  in  his 
history  more  indicative  of  his  zeal  for  Wod  and  love  to  man,  than  that  to 
■vhich  it  relates.     \Yho  among  us  cao  make  a  similar  declai-atio!)? 


1821.]  AND    DEATH.  mi 

"His  wonderful  knowledge  of  scripture  was  a  source  of 
great  comfort,  and  the  exactness  with  which  he  repeated 
passage  after  passage,  frequently  remarking  upon  emphatic 
words  in  the  original,  was  amazino^.  The  manner  also  in 
whicfi  he  connected  one  with  another  was  admirable.  It 
resembled  hearing  a  series  of  exquisitely  selected  scripture- 
references  read  with  a  solemnity  and  feeling  such  as  one 
had  never  before  witnessed. 

'^His  first  clear  consolation  was  after  receiving  the 
Lord's  supper,  on  Thursday,  March  22d  He  had  previ- 
ously observed:  'An  undue  stress  is  by  some  laid  upon  this 
ordinance,  as  administered  to  the  sick,  and  I  think  others  of 
us  are  in  danger  of  undervaluing  it.  It  is  a  means  of  grace, 
and  may  prove  God's  instrument  of  conveying  to  me  the 
comfort  I  am  seeking.'  The  scene  was  indescribable,  and 
can  never  be  forgotten  by  any  who  witnessed  it.  His  fer- 
vor, his  humility,  the  way  in  which  he  raised  his  emaciated 
hands  to  heaven,  his  pallid  dying  countenance,  so  full  of 
love,  and  expressive  of  everything  heavenly  and  holy,  the 
tears  and  sobs  of  those  present:  all  together  were  most 
overpowering.  Surel}^  God  was  with  us  in  a  peculiar  man- 
ner. Shortly  after  the  service  was  concluded,  he  said, 
jVots)  Lord  leitest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  for  mine 
eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation.  Through  the  remainder  of  the 
day,  though  much  exhausted,  and  during  the  night,  he  con- 
tinued in  a  very  happy  state  of  mind. 

"•'To  his  son-in-law,  who  came  in  the  evening,  and  re- 
gretted his  absence  when  the  sacrament  was  administered, 
ho  said:  4t  was  beneficial  to  me:  I  received  Christ,  and  he 
received  me.  1  feel  a  composure  which  I  did  not  expect 
last  night:  1  have  not  triumphant  assurance,  but  something 
which  is  more  calm  and  satisfactory.  I  bless  God  for  it. 
And  then  he  repeated,  in  the  most  emphatic  manner,  the 
whole  of  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Isaiah:  "O  Lord,  I  will  praise 
thee;  though  thou  wast  angry  with  me,  thine  anger  is 
turned  away,  and  thou  comfortest  me,  &c:"  Oh  to  realize 
the  fulness  of  joy  i  to  have  done  with  temptation!  "'They  shall 
hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more;  neither  shall  the 
sun  light  on  them  nor  any  heat:  for  the  Lamb,  which  is  in 
ihe  midst  of  the  throne,  shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead 
them  unto  living  fountains  of  waters:  and  God  shall  wipe 
away  all  tears  from  their  eyes. — They  are  come  out  of 
great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes,  and  made 
them  white  in  the  1  lood  of  the  Lamb.  Therefore  are 
they  before  the  throne  of  God.'  " 


368  HIS  LAST  ILLNESf^  [Chap.  XVI. 

*Sin,  my  worst  enemy  before, 
Shall  vex  my  eyes  and  ears  no  more:^ 
My  inward  foes  shall  all  be  slain, 
Nor  Satan  break,  my  peace  again.' —  , 

*  "We  know  not  what  we  shall  be:  but  we  know,  that  when 
he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him 
as  he  is. — The  righteous  hath  hope  in  his  death — not  driven 
away;  no,  no,  not  driven  away,  as  the  innckedisP  ' 

•When  I  tread  the  verge  of  Jordan, 
Bid  my  anxious  fears  subside!' — 

'Though. painful  at  present, 
*T  will  cease  before  long; 
And  then,  oh  how  pleasant 
The  conqueror's  song!' 

"  'What  a  mercy,'  he  said,  on  something  being  prepared 
for  him, 'that  there  are  so  many  changes  of  food  for  bad  ap- 
petites; and  so  many  kind  relatives,  friends,  and  domestics, 
doing  all  they  can  to  help  me. — You  are  all  trying  to  com- 
fort me:  God  bless  you,  and  all  whom  you  desire  to  be 
blessed!  He  will  be  a  God  to  Abraham,  and  to  hisseed^  and 
his  seed''s  seed.  Let  the  children  of  thy  servant  continue^  and 
their  seed  be  established  before  thee! 

How  would  the  powers  of  darkness  boast 
If  but  one  praying  soul  were  lost!* 

He  frequently  repeated.  Perfect  peace! 

"In  the  evening  he  asked  Mr.  Dawes  if  there  was  not  a 
proof  sheet  that  night,  extending  nearly  to  the  close  of  St. 
John.  And  then,  evidently  going  over  in  his  mind  the  con- 
tents of  the  last  chapters  of  that  gospel,  he  said,  'Well:  It 
is  finished:  We  shall  soon  finish  our  work  too.  After  a 
pause — My  Lord,  and  my  God!  and  then,  with  great  anima- 
tion. These  things  are  written  that  ye  might  believe  that  Jesus  is 
the  Christy  the  Son  of  God^  and  that,  believing,  ye  might  have 
life  through  his  name. — He  again  paused,  and  then  proceeded: 
^Lovest  thou  meP  and,  turning  to  his  sons,  'It  is  too  late  to 
say  to  me,  but  he  says  to  you,  feed  my  sheep,  feed  my  lambs. 
That  is  the  way  to  shew  your  love.  I  have  endeavored  to 
do  it,  but  it  is  all  over  now.'  Mr.  D.  said,  'Your  Avorks  will 
furnish  food  for  them  for  a  long  time  to  come:'  he  replied, 
*Aye,  but  they  will  get  out  of  fashion.'  Mr.  D  'The  Bible 
will  not  get  out  of  'ia*hion.'  'But  they  will  get  a  newfash- 
ioned  way  of  commenting  upon  it.'     Mr.  D.  said  something 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  369 

further  on  the  permanency  of  his  compient.  'Pho,'  he 
cried  with  a  semi-contemptuous  smile;  and  added:  'Oh,  you 
do  not  know  what  a  proud  heart  1  have,  and  how  you  help 
the  devil.  They  may  take  a  i'ew  hints,  I  hope.  1  leave 
something  which  they  may  have  in  remembrance  after  my 
decease,  but  oh!"' — with  great  solemnity — 'what  an  awful 
responsibility  rcMs  upon  me!  1  have  done  xschat  I  could.. 
Forgive — accept — blessi' 

'•He  proceeded:  'There  is  one  feeling  I  cannot  have  if  I 
would.  Those  that  oppose  my  doctrine  have  slandered  me  sad- 
ly: but  I  cannot  feel  any  resentment.  \  can  only  love  and  pity 
them,  and  pray  for  their  salvation.  I  neverdid  feel  any  resent* 
ment  against  them:  I  only  regret  that  I  did  not  more  ardently- 
long  and  pray  for  the  salvation  of  their  souls.' — '1  feel  most 
earnest  in  prayer  for  the  promotion  of  Christ's  kingdom  all 
over  the  earth.  Hallowed  be  thy  name — Thy  kingdom  coitie—^ 
Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven! — Be  thou  exalted^ 
Lord^  in  thy  own  strength;  so  will  we  sing  and  praise  thy  power, 
— 'There  are  two  causes  in  the  world,  the  cause  of  God,  ani 
the  cause  of  the  devil;  the  cause  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  the  cause  of  the  devil.  The  cause  of  Gedwi// prevail 
all  over  the  world,  among  all  kindreds^  and  people,  unci 
tongues.  It  shall///  the  whole  earth.  Hallowed  be  thy  name.,<S,'c\ 

"  '1  hope  I  leave  something,'  he  said,  referring  to  hi$ 
writings,  'which  may  do  good  to  the  industrious;  and  nothing 
can  do  good  to  the  idle.' 

"He  afterwards  alluded  with  great  concern  to  the  deatl| 
of  his  father.  '1  fear  he  knew  not  Immanuel,  the  Lord  ou1{ 
righteousness.  His  last  letter  to  me  was  full  of  Sociniari 
principles.  I  wrote  a  long  and  affectionate  answer,  but  hcj 
died  before  it  arrived.' — Then  to  his  grandson:  'You  se^ 
your  grandfather,  I  trust,  die  a  more  Christian  death  thari 
his  father:  may  you  die  a  more  Christian  death  than  eitheif 
grandflither  or  great-grandfather!  To  this  end  lead  a  mora 
Christian  life.  You  have  greater  advantages  than  they  had. 
You  have  been  planted  in  the  courts  of  the  Lord:  but  oh!' 
(raising  his  emaciated  hands  with  amazing  energy,  '-despise 
not  the  birth-right;  lest  afterwards  you  find  it  iiot.,  though  you 
seek  it  carefully  with  tears. — I  have  nothing  but  my  blessing 
and  good-will  to  give  you.  I  have  no  money  to  leave  you; 
and,  if  1  had,  it  would  be  a  mere  bauble,  a  bubble,  all  van- 
ity ' 

"In  the  night  Mr.  Davyes,  sitting  by  him,  heard  him  say 
in  a  low  voice;  -O  God,  thou  art  the  husband  of  the  widoWj 


370  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVL 

the  father  of  the  fatherless:  be  thou  a  husband  to  7/1?/ widow, 
a  father  to  my  children,  a  friend  to  this  young  friend  who 
siis  so  kindly  by  me,' 

"He  had  some  refreshing  sleep,  and  awoke  in  great  calm- 
ness. 'TJiis,'  he  said,  43  heaven  begun:  I  have  done  with 
darkness /or  ere?'— /or  erer.  Satan  is  vanquished:  Nothing 
now  remains,  but  salvation  with  eternal  glory — eternal  glorij.'' 

'•In  the  morning,  (Friday,  March  23,)  the  flush  in  his 
cheek  announced  the  return  of  fever,  and  with  it  there  was 
some  agitation  and  distress:  'But,'  said  he,  'though  1  feel 
some  temptation,  more  than  I  have  done  through  the  night, 
yet,  lor  a  dying  day,  it  is  all  mercy.  /  have  waited  for  thy 
salvation,  O  Lord:  preserve  me  yet!' — The  paroxysm  came 
on  with  great  violence:  his  sufferings  were  extreme,  and 
confusion  and  gloom  prevailed.  He  cried  earnestly  to  God. 
'AH  my  calm  and  comfort,'  he  said,  'are  gone:  nothing  re- 
mains of  them  but  a  faint  recollection, — and  that  I  can  pray 
for  you. — Well,  after  all,  God  is  greater  than  Satan.  Is  not 
Christ  all-sufficient?  can  he. not  save  to  the  uttermost?  hath 
he  not  promised  to  save?  Lord,  deliver  me!  Suffer  not 
Satan  to  prevail!  Pity,  pity.  Lord,  pity  me!' 

"The  absence  of  every  murmur  and  ccziplaint.  under 
such  heavy  mental  and  bodily  sufferings,  was  very  striking. 
He  said,  with  reference  to  dying  under  this  gloom,  'If  it  be 
so,  I  cannot  help  it:  Thou  art  righteous!  Father,  g^^^ify  thy 
•name! 

— If  ray  soul  were  sent  to  hell 
Thy  righteous  law  approves  it  well. 

Yet  save  a  trembling  sinner,  Lord, 
Wliose  hope,  still  hovering  round  thy  word, 
Would  light  on  some  sweet  promise  there, 
Some  sure  support  against  despair. 

— Round  thy  word:  not  hunting  after  any  new  revelation: 
No,  no:  I  want  nothing  new;  nothing  but  the  old  doctrine, 
and  faith  to  lay  hold  of  it.  That  will  bear  me  through 
all.' 

"Dr.  Slater  now  came.  To  him  he  related  with  great 
accuracy  all  that  had  passed,  both  as  to  body  and  mind,  since 
he  saw  him  on  Tuesday;  and  asked  his  advice  respecting 
taking  opiates,  which  he  found  most  efficacious  in  quieting 
his  over  excitement,  preventing  delirium,  and  reducing  the 
mind  to  its  natural  state,  so  that  he  could  pray  with  peace 
8fod  c-ilmness . — 'Observe,'  he  said,  1  do  not  fear  death.^  'No,' 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  371 

replied  Dr.  S.,  'I  know  you  desire  to  depart.'  'In  that,'  said 
he,  'the  Lord's  will  be  done:  I  want  to  do  my  duty:  I  would 
not  shorten  my  sufferings  by  the  least  sin.' 

"In  the  evening  the  fever  abated,  and  he  became  calm. 
His  mind  dwelt  much  upon  love.  ''God  is  love;  and  he  that 
dzvelleth  in  love^dn;elleth  in  God^  and  God  in  him.  Faith  that 
worketh  by  love.''  He  seemed  full  of  tenderness  and  affection 
to  al>  around  him.  'One  evidence,'  he  said,  'I  have  of  meet- 
ness  for  heaven — I  feel  such  love  to  all  mankind — to  every 
man  upon  earth — to  those  who  have  most  opposed  and  slan- 
dered me.' 

"To  the  Rev.  S.  B.  Mathews,  then  curate  of  Stone,  now 
of  Aston  Sandford,  and  Secretary  to  a  neighboring  Bible 
Society,  he  said,  with  great  energy:  'Count  it  an  honor, 
without  recompence  or  reward,  in  the  midst  of  frowns  and 
opposition,  to  preach  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ  to  poor 
sinners;  to  help  to  send  his  word  all  over  the  earth,  by  sea 
and  land.  None  but  Jesus  can  do  us  good:  nor  can  we  do 
any  good  to  others  but  by  him. — 1  have  suffered  more  this 
fortnight  than  in  all  my  seventy-four  years:  and  Christ  has 
appeared  to  me  a  hundred,  yea  a  thousand  times,  if  possible, 
more  precious  and  glorious  than  ever:  sin,  more  hateful 
and  evil;  salvation,  more  to  be  desired  and  valued. — Christ 
is  ALL — the  love  of  Christ — the  power  of  Christ.  Tome  to 
live  is  Christ;  and  to  die,  I  hope,  will  be  gain. — More  than 
all  in  thee,  I  find.  I  h'dye  found  more  in  him,  than  I  ever 
expected  to  rcani.' 

"To  his  daughter:  '1  used  about  this  time  in  the  evening 
to  pray  for  you  all;  but  I  have  no  power  now:  hardly  any 
to  pray  for  myself.  You  must  pray  for  me.''  Then,  'Let 
me  look  to  Christ  to  intercede  ibr  me — I  have  not  quite 
failed  to  improve  the  privilege  of  access  to  God  by  Christ — 
of  his  intercession:  but  I  have  not  availed  myself  of  it  as  I 
ought.  I  hope  you  will  all  value  and  improve  this  inestima- 
ble privilege.' — 'All  depends  on  faith.  Lord,  give  me  faith! 
— the  precious  faith  of  God'' s  elect!  Pray  for  me,  that  I  may 
have  faith — hope — love — 

Till  faith  is  sweetb'  lost  in  siglit, 
And  hope  in  full  supreme  delight, 
And  everlasting  love! 

— 'God  bless  your  poor  afflicted  f;jthcr-in-lawl  He  perhaps, 
will  not  be  here  long.  God  spam  hfm,  if  it  be  his  will!  But 
may  he,  too,  have  the  precious  fu'ih  of  God''s  elect!  May  his 
partaerbe  blessed,  supported,  and  sanctifiedl' 


372  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  Chap.  XVI. 

"To  his  wife:  'God  be  your  father,  and  your  husband!  I 
trust  all  Kline  will  be  kind  to  you.  You  have  been  a  great 
blessing  to  me.  We' shall,  I  trust,  meet  in  heaven.  I  have 
less  doubt  of  you,  than  of  myself.' 

"A  message  was  communicated  to  him  from  his  highly 
esteemed  friend  the  Rev.  Daniel  Wilson,  expressive,  among 
other  things,  of  the  great  benefit  he  had  been  to  the  church 
of  Christ.  'Now  this,'  said  he  'is  doing  me  harm.  God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner^  is  the  only  ground  on  wiiich  I  can 
rest.  The  last  time  I  spoke  to  the  people,  it  was  on  those 
words,  and  I  applied  them  to  myself:  Be  merciful  to  me  a 
sinner — the  sinner — the  chief  of  sinners.  If  I  am  saved,  God 
shall  have  all  the  glory.' 

"A  striking  scene  took  place  this  evening,  (March  23d,) 
with  one  of  his  poor  parishoners,  which  shewed  his  anxious 
care  of  his  flock,  and  his  clear  recollection  of  the  character 
and  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  individuals.  After  advising 
him  on  his  situation  and  conduct,  'Christ,'  he  observed,  'is 

all,  the  world  is  nothing.  Had  I  the  property  of ,  or  a 

hundred  times  more,  now  that  I  lie  here,  what  would  it 
be  worth?  not  a  bubble  of  water.  Seek  to  win  Christ, 
Give  up  every  thing — evenj  thing  but  duty,  to  avoid  conten- 
tion.— I  have  often  prayed  for  you:  often  since  I  lay  on  this 
bed.  Tell  your  wife  to  pray  tor  me:  she,  at  least,  owes 
much  to  me. — I  have  often  prayed  tor  you  all:  particularly 
when  I  thought  you  were  praying  for  me:' 

"  'At  any  rate,  I  have  been  a  jdain  man.  The  hypocrite — 
the  formalist — will  not  pray  always.  I  have  always  resolved 
to  enter  eternity  praying,  Lord  save  me!  Kow  the  time  is 
come.' 

"He  had  talked  too  much,  and  became  agitated  and  dis- 
tressed; but  regained  calmness  in  the  night,  and  had  some 
sleep.  He  said  to  his  youngest  son,  who  sat  up  with  him, 
'What  is  the  world,  and  the  glory  of  it?  I  would  not  change 
my  hope,  lean  and  meagre  as  it  is,  for  all  the  kingdoms  of 
the  world  and  the  glory  of  them,  were  I  sure  of  living  a 
thousand  years  longer  to  enjoy  them.' 

"Through  the  greater  part  of  Saturday  (March  24,)  he 
was  calm,  though  often  gloomy.  It  was  delightful  to  sit  by 
him:  he  talked  much  to  himself,  and  prayed  in  a  low  voice. 
The  presence  of  one  of  us  did  not  disturb  Aim,  while  it  was 
highly  edifying  and  consoHng  to  us. — In  the  afternoon  he 
was  shaved:  and,  on  my  asking  him,  whether  it  troubled 
him  much,  he  said,  'Not  much:'   and  alluding  to  a  playful 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  373 

term  by  which  we  had  been  used  to  describe  that  operation, 
he  proceeded,  'Oh  that  the  Lord  would  beautify  me  with 
salvation!  He  will  beautify  the  meek  with  salvation.  (Psal. 
cxlix,  4.)  That  would  be  a  beautifying.' — As  I  sat  by  him  in 
the  evening  he  said, 'You  love  and  pity  me;  but  that  will  do 
me  Uttle  good.  Your  love  and  pity  are  beautiful,  as  far  as 
they  go:  oh  how  beautiful  are  the  love  and  pity  of  the 
SaviorP 

"I  asked  him  on  Sunday  afternoon,  whether  I  should  stay 
from  church  with  him.  'Oh  no,'  he  replied:  'nothing  gives 
me  pleasure  but  what  is  for  your  good;  and  the  thought 
that  you  pray  for  me.' 

"Monday,  March  26.  To  his  servant:  'I  thank  you  for  all 
your  kindness  to  me.  You  have  been  a  faithful  domestic, 
and  I  hope  a  conscientious  one.  If  at  any  time  I -have  been 
hasty  and  sharp,  forgive  me,  and  pray  to  God  to  forgive 
me:  but  lay  the  blame  upon  me,  not  upon  religion." 
;  "  'For  one  thing  1  rejoice — that  I  am  not  one  of  the 
Carlile  party;  nor  of  the  Humes  and  Rousseaus;  nor  of  the 
open  profligates;  nor  of  the  Pelagians,  the  self-justifiers.  I 
might  have  been:  I  have  done  enough  to  provoke  God  to 
give  me  up.' 

"  'May  Christ  be  unto  me  wisdom,  and  righteousness^  and 
justification,  and  redemption,'' — he  corrected  himself  ''sancti- 
fication  and  redemption:^  and  added,  'Lord  let  me  have  all^ 
though  I  should  forget  to  ask  aright!' 

"After  mentioning  his  acute  sufferings,  such,  he  said,  as 
he  had  previously  no  conception  of,  he  added;  'If  my  con- 
tinuance here  in  them  could  be  of  the  least  spiritual  benefit 
to  any  one,  I  should  be  willing  to  wait.' 

"On  taking  some  refreshment:  'When  1  do  not  like  any 
thing,  1  leave  it;  but  the  Savior,  though  the  cup  was  so 
bitter,  did  not  leave  it  till  he  could  say,  '/<  is  finished,'' 

"  'I  know  not  how  it  is,  I  repent  and  believe:  I  think  I 
am  sure  1  do,  but  I  do  not  obtain  the  clear  sense  of  pardon. 
There  seems  a  great  gulf  fixed,  which  1  cannot  pass.'  My 
mother  answered,  'It  is  disease.'  'Yes,'  he  said,  'the  ejfect 
of  disease.' 

"He  expressed  his  fear  that  his  death  would  occasion  a 
season  of  temptation  to  his  people;  that  the  congregation 
would  very  probably  be  dispersed,  in  various  directions; 
and  then  observed,  'It  is  just  eighteen  years  since  I  came 
hither.  I  was  much  fiercer  this  day  eighteen  years,  when 
taking  leave  of  the  people  at  the  Lock' — alludmg  to  th^ 


I 


374  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVL 

common  language  of  this  part  of  the  country,  which  des- 
cribes good  health  and  spirits  by  the  term  fierceness.  I 
seemed  a  little  surprised;  and  he  said,  'Do  not  you  remem- 
ber that  I  preached  my  farewell  sermons  at  the  Lock  on 
the  26th  of  March?' 

"Afterwards:  'I  have  not  that  comfort  I  could  wish;  but 
I  think  my  mind  is  made  up  to  bear  quietly  whatever  God 
may  please  to  send  me,  however  uncomfortable  even  to  the 
end,  if  it  be  for  his  glory.' 

"On  Tuesday  morning  (March  27th,)  he  appeared  dying, 
and  suffered  exquisitely.  'Oh,'  he  said,  'it  is  hard  work. 
Death  is  a  new  acquaintance:  a  terrible  one,  except  as 
Christ  giveth  us  the  victory.,  and  the  assurance  of  it.  My  tiesh 
and  my  heart  seem  as  if  they  -wanted  to  fail,  and  could  not. 
Who  can  tell  what  that  tie  is  which  binds  body  and  soul  to^ 
gether?  How  easily  is  it  loosened  in  some;  what  a  wrench 
and  tear  is  it  in  others.  Lord,  loosen  it,  if  it  be  thy  will! — 
I  hope  it  is  not  wrong  to  pray  for  a  release.  If  it  be,  God 
forgive  me!  Yet,  if  it  be  thy  will  that  I  should  wait  for 
days  and  weeks,  Thou  art  righteous.^ 

"Some  refreshment  was  brought  him,  which  he  did  not 
feel  willing  to  take.  He  asked  what  was  to  be  the  effect 
of  it,  and  seemed  to  fear  being  stupified.  He  was  told  it 
was  only  to  make  him  more  comfortable.  'That,'  he  re- 
plied, 'is  death's  work,  or  rather  Christ's  work  by  death: 
but  I  will  do  as  I  am  bid.  In  my  circumstances,  to  do  as 
man  bids  me  in  these  things  is  the  best  way  of  doing  what 
God  bids  me.' 

"He  is  continually  repeating  texts  of  scripture  and  verses 
of  hymns. — His  tender  affection  for  us  all  is  astonishing  in 
such  a  state  of  extreme  suffering,  and  cuts  us  to  the  heart. 
On  seeing  my  mother  come  in,  he  cried,  '•Here  comes  an- 
other sufferer.  Lord,  thou  art  he  that  comfortest  those  that 
mourn:  comfort  her — support  her!  Be  thou  the  husband  of 
the  widow!' 

"He  expressed  his  fear  lest  seeing  him  suffer  so  dread- 
fully should  do  us  harm,  and  make  us  fear  death  in  a  way 
we  ought  not  do. — Still  his  desire  for  the  promotion  of  the 
glory  of  God  is  the  uppermost  feeUng  in  his  mind.  Father^ 
glorify  ihy  name.,  is  his  frequent  language. — His  deep  hu- ' 
ixiility — the  simplicity  of  his  faith  in  Christ — his  hatred  of 
sin— his  spii*ituality  of  mind — his  meekness,  gentleness, 
and  love,  strike  us  all  with  admiration.  He  indeed  receives 
the  kingdom  oj  God  as  a  little  child.     The  very  way  in 


1821.]  AND   DEATH.  375 

which  he  mentions  the  name  of  the  Savior,  it  is  delightful 
to  hear.  He  seems  as  much  like  him,  as  one  can  conceive 
any  thing  on  earth  to  be:  but  his  desires  after  holiness  are 
such  as  will  never  be  satisfied  till  he  awakes  in  his  likeness. 
•'  'O  Lord,  magnify  in  me  thy  glory: — thy  justice — thy 
hatred  of  sin — thy  love — thy  truth — thy  pity: — and  then 
take  me  to  thyself!'— 'The  way  is  dark  and  deepj  but 

His  way  was  much  deeper  (roughei') 

And  darker  than  mine: 
Did  J>:sus  thus  sufter. 

And  shall  I  repine?' 

These  were  some  of  his  sentences. — Again:  'If  I  were 
what  I  ought  to  be,  I  should  be  willing  to  live  in  this  state 
six  months,  if  it  might  be  of  any  spiritual  use  to  the  worst 
infidel.'  Mr.  D.  said,  'You  know  our  Savior  prayed,  If  it 
be  possible^  let  this  cup  pass  from  me:  so  that  it  eannot  be 
wrong  to  shrink  from  suffering.'  'No,'  he  replied,  'I  do  not 
think  that  it  is  all  wrong.  But  I  leave  it  in  the  hands  of  a 
Savior,  who  is  infinite  in  wisdom,  power,  and  love:  and  I 
pray  for  patience. — I  hope,  but  I  cannot  but  feel  some  fear: 
and  it  is  such  an  eternal  risk,  of  such  infinite  importance, 
that  the  slightest  fear  seems  to  counterbalance  even  preva- 
lent hope.' 

"Through  the  whole  of  Tuesday  afternoon  he  was 
calm,  and  talked  delightfully.  He  seemed  to  unite  the 
cheerfulness,  clearness  of  thought,  and  force  of  argument, 
of  his  former  days,  with  the  extraordinary  tenderness,  hu- 
mility, meekness,  and  love  of  his  present  situation. — On  his 
second  son's  entering  the  room,  he  said  to  him — Who  am 
also  an  elder,  and  a  witness  of  the  sufferings  oj  Christ,  and  a 
partaker  of  the  glory  that  shall  be  revealed:  Feed  the  flock  of 
God  that  is  among  you,  ^c;  (1  Pet.  v,  1 — 4,)  and  proceeded 
to  converse  in  a  most  interesting  manner  about  his  own  past 
ministry.  He  had  a  blessed  consciousness  of  having  been 
■faithful,  which  was  a  source  of  gratitude  to  him. 

"To  his  grandson:  'God  bless  you!  I  have  often  preached 
to  you,  and  sometimes  talked  to  yow;  but  I  have  prayed  for 
you  a  hundred  times  more.  Seek  and  serve  God.  Religion 
is  all  that  is  valuable.  You  may  think  it  does  little  for  me 
now;  but  it  is  all.  May  you  be  a  blessing  to  your  parents, 
to  your  brothers  and  sisters.  You  are  the  eldest:  should  you 
outhve  your  father,  be  a  father  to  the  rest.  I  have  always 
particularly  wished  you  might  be  a  minister  of  Christ:  but 
this  1  must  leave.     God's  will  be  done!' 


376  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVL 

*'0n  another-  occasion:  'God  bless  you  and  make  you  a 
blessing  to  your  father,  mother,  brothers,  sisters,  cousins, 
the  pupils,  schools,  poor,  and,  if  it  might  be,  to  his  church.' 
■ — And  yet  again:  'Once  more,  my  dear  grandson,  God  bless 
you,  and  make  you  a  blessing  to  your  father,  and  your  dear, 
dear  mother,  your  brothers  and  sisters — a  large  blessing. 
Be  ambitious,  if  I  may  so  speak,  to  be  useful.  1  have  often 
prayed  for  you:  pity  me,  and  pray  for  me.  You  see  me  a 
great  sufferer:  but  oh  think  not  worse  of  Christ,  or  worse 
of  religion,  for  that. — Think  worse  of  sin:  none  suffer 
but  sinners.' — He  again  blessed  him  with  great  affection, 
adding,  'TAe  Angel  that  redeemed  me  from  all  evil^  bless  the  lads! 
— ^you,  your  brothers,  and  all  your  cousins,  &c  &c.' 

"One  thing  is  not  to  be  forgotten  concerning  these  bene- 
dictions which  he  continued  to  pronounce  upon  his  grandson, 
that,  though  he  much  longed  that  he  should  be  a  minister, 
he  yet  solemnly  warned  him  not  to  take  the  sacred  olBce 
upon  him,  unless  he  was  conscious  of  a  heart  devoted  to  the 
work  of  it.  'Rather,'  said  he,  'make  forks  and  rakes,  rather 
plough  the  ground  and  thresh  the  corn,  than  be  an  indolent 
ungodly  clergyman.' 

"He  begged  his  curate  to  forgive  him  if  he  had  been  oc- 
casionally rough  and  sharp.  4  meant  it  for  your  good:  but, 
like  every  thing  of  mine,  it  was  mixed  with  sin. — Impute  it 
not,  however,  to  my  religion,  but  to  my  want  of  more  re- 
ligion.' 

"To  his  nephew,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Webster,  (who  came 
this  evening,)  he  said:  'Hate  sin  more — Love  Christ  more 
— Pray  more  earnestly. — Beware  of  covetousness. — Your 
College  feasts  are  sad  things: — Avoid  animal  indulgences, 
if  you  would  lie  easy  on  a  dying  bed.' 

"He  slept  much  in  the  evening;  but  almost  always  awoke 
praying.  Once  he  said,  ^Change  this  vile  body  of  humili- 
ation^ that  it  may  be  like  thy  glorified  body,  O  Savior!  but  above 
all,  let  me  have  thy  glorious  holiness  both  of  body  and  soul!' 
— 'How  varying  are  my  feelings!  But  the  great  event  cannot 
depend  on  what  passes  in  a  few  half-delirious  days.  No, 
my  hope  rests  on  a  better  foundation:  it  depends  on  my 
receiving  the  reconciliation^ — on  my  being  found  in  Christ — 
made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him.  Oh  for  tdMh.— faith 
that    worketh   by   love — purifieth    the  heart — ovcrcometh    the 

*  Rom,  V,  II.  Gr. 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  377 

TOorW/'— He  repeated  many  texts,  verses  of  hymns,  &c. 
among  them  with  gteat  emphasis, 

*I  wait  for  thy  salvation.  Lord, 

With  strong  desires  I  wait; 
My  soul,  encouraged  by  thy  word. 

Stands  watching  at  thy  gate.* 

He  again  repeated  his  expressions  of  good-will  to  all,  and 
particularly  his  prayers  for  those  who  had  opposed  his  views 
of  the  gospel. 

*' Wednesday  morning,  March  28.  He  has  slept  a  good 
deal,  and  is  calm  and  cheerful,  though  in  great  suffering. — 
'This,'  he  has  said,  'is  my  last  day.  Still  I  have  the  last 
struggle  to  pass,  and  what  that  is,  what  that  wrench  is,  who 
can  tell  me?  Lord,  give  me  patience,  fortitude,  holy  courage! 
— I  have  heard  persons  treat  almost  with  ridicule  the  ex- 
pression. Put  underneath  me  the  everlasting  arms!*  But  it 
is  exactly  what  I  want — everlasting  arms  to  raise  me  up;  to 
be  strengthened  with  might  by  his  Spirit  in  the  inner  man. — 
I  am  in  full  possession  of  all  my  faculties:  I  know  I  am  dying: 
I  feel  the  immense^  the  infinite  importance  of  the  crisis: 
Lord  Jesus  receive  my  spirit'.  Thou  art  'all  I  want:'  'Abnc 
but  Jesus  can  do  helpless  sinners  good.' — Blessed  he  God 
there  is  one  Savior,  though  but  one  in  the  whole  universe: 
and 

His  love  is  as  great  a^  his  power 

And  neither  knows  measure  nor  end. 

*Tis  Jesus  the  first  and  the  last 

Whose  Spirit  shall  guide  us  safe  home: 
We'll  praise  him  for  all  that  is  past. 

And  trust  him  for  all  that's  to  come. 

— Had  any  other  done  what  Christ  has  for  us — raised  us 
from  such  a  deplorable,  lost,  wicked  state — shed  his  blood 
for  us — sent  his  Spirit  to  quicken  us;  would  he  not  be  great- 
ly affronted  if  we  were  to  doubt  his  perfecting  his  own  work? 
And  yet  we  are  apt  to  doubt  Christ's  love.  God  forgive  us 
that,  with  all  the  rest  of  our  offences! — He  that  spared  not  his 
own  Son^  hut  delivered  him  up  for  us  all^  how  shall  he  not^  with 
him^  also  freely  give  us  all  things? 

Sin  my  worst  enemy  before — 

Ah!  infinitely  the  worst! 

>     •  Deut.  xxxiii,  27. 
*32 


378  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVi" 

Sin  my  worst  enemy  before 
Shall  vex  my  eyes  and  ears  no^nore: 
My  inward  foes  shall  all  be  slain, 
Nor  Satan  break  my  peace  again!' 

"While  we  were  at  family  worship,  he  prayed  aloud  the 
whole  time,  and  with  his  usual  minuteness  of  intercession — 
for  hi»  family  (naming  the  particular  branches,) — his  parish 
— the  young — his  benefactors — his  enemies — his  country — 
prisoners — various  different  classes  of  sinners — enlarging 
his  views  and  petitions  to  every  part  of  the  world. 

"He  wished  again  to  receive  the  holy  sacrament,  if  it 
was  judged  proper.  4  mean  it  not,'  he  said,  'as  a  form,  but 
as  a  means  of  grace,  appointed  by  the  Savior.'  After  re- 
ceiving it,  he  was  much  exhausted,  and  said  but  little.  On 
awaking  from  sleep  after  some  time,  he  said,  'We  have  had, 
1  think,  a  sacrament  of  love:  no  resentment,  no  ill-will,  no 
heart-burnings;  all  good-will,  all  love  of  God  and  of  one 
another  for  Christ's  sake.' 

"March  28.  He  again  blessed  his  grandson  with  great 
affection  and  said,  'I  cannot  say  as  Christ  did.  My  peace  I 
give  unto  you:  1  cannot  wish  efficaciously  only  benevolently: 
but  I  mean  what  I  say;  and  that  is  not  what  you  will  find 
many  do  in  this  world.  It  is  a  very  insincere  world;  and 
a  man  who  always  means  what  he  speaks  is  not  a  common 
character:  but  he  is  often  thought  an  unpleasant  man, — as  1 
have  been.' 

"He  is  so  gentle  and  loving,  it  is  so  delightful  to  attend 
upon  him,  that  the  servants,  finding  themselves  in  danger 
of  contention  which  should  wait  upon  him  with  refresh- 
ments, &;c.,  agreed  together  to  take  it  by  turns,  that  each 
might  have  her  due  share  of  the  pleasure  and  benefit.  And 
yet  he  is  continually  begging  our  forgiveness  for  his  impa- 
tience and  want  of  thankfulness,  and  entreating  our  prayers 
that  God  may  forgive  him. 

"  ^Qur  light  affliction^  which  is  but  for  a  moment^  worketh 
for  us  afar  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory — light 
compared  with  what  sin  deserves — with  what  the  damned 
endure — with  what  the  Savior  suffered.' — He  went  through 
the  whole  passage  commenting  on  every  expression,  but 
was  not  distinctly  audible. 

To  one  of  his  servants:  'Pray  for  me:  I  value  your  pray- 
ers; and  that  not  a  whit  the  less  because  you  are  a  servant. 
I  have  often  prayed  for  you^  and  I  trust  that  blessings  have 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  379 

come  upon  you  in  consequence:  Pray  for  ttjc,  that,  through 
your  prayers,  thanksgivings  may  redound  unto  God, 

''  'Our  happiness  here,  httle  as  it  is,  consists  in  hungering 
and  thirsting^  (Matt,  v,  6,)  but  there  we  shall  hunger  no  more^ 
neither  thirst  any  more. — Now  he  is  satisfied:  J^'ow  he  is 
comforted.^     (Luke  xvi,  25.) 

''He  often  checks  his  anxious  desire  to  depart,  and  prays 
to  he  enabled  to  wait  patiently  — that  patience  may  have  her 
perfect  work.^  Yet  he  dreads  the  last  unknown  agony. 
He  speaks  of  it  as  the  effect  of  sin,  and  therefore  terrible. 

"In  great  suflfering  in  the  evening  he  exclaimed,  'O  death, 
when  wilt  thou  come  and  finish  this?  Thou  answerest,  When 
God  sends  me. — Grant  me  patience,  merciful  God!' — He 
then  remarked  on  this:  'This  is  almost  like  praying  to  death. 
How  much  tendency  is  there  to  such  random  stuff  among 
protestants,  as  well  as  among  papists,  when  the  mind  is  ex- 
cited.' 

"He  now  received  intelligence,  with  great  pleasure  and 
gratitude,  of  the  birth  of  another  granddaughter,  and  some 
time  after  said,'!  have  twenty-one  grand-children;  the  Lord 
bless  them  with  all  spiritual  blessings,  and  make  them  bless- 
ings, large  blessings  in  their  families — to  the  church — and 
to  the  world — The  God  which  fed  me  all  my  life  long  bless 
them!  It  matters  little  what  their  station  here  is — even  if 
servants,  like  Jacob: — the  angel  which  redeemed  me  from  all 
evil  bless  them!  Only  redeem  them  from  all  evil — from  sin 
— from  guilt — from  the  devil — from  this  present  evil  world 
— and  bring  them  to  everlasting  gloryf 

"Thursday  morning,  March  29.  On  my  entering  the 
room — ^^ Again  we  meet  once  more.  Oh  how  long  will  this 
last?  I  feel  as  if  I  could  not  die.  What  need  have  1  of  pa- 
tience and  submission?' — It  was  suggested  that  he  was  kept 
here  to  do  us  good.  'Oh,'  said  he,  'my  selfishness!  I  feel  it 
diflicult  to  be  willing  to  stay,  even  if  it  were  so.  But  I  do 
so  fear  doing  you  harm:  being  carried  away,  in  great  suffer- 
ing, by  any  sudden  temptation,  to  say  or  do  what  may  in- 
jure you. — But  I  leave  this;  and  commit  myself  to  the  care 
of  the  merciful  Savior.'' 

"He  continually  dwells  on  the  sacramental  service,  and 

repeats  passages  from  it,  particularly  that  prayer,  'that  we 

may  be  fulfilled  with  thy  grace  and  heavenly  benediction.' 

"Referring  to  his  death,  he  said;  'I  hope  my  family  have 

too  mach  good  sense  to  make  a  raree-shew  of  my  funeral^ 


380  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVI. 

either  as  respects  the  manner,  or  the  place,  or  the  tomb- 
stone, or  any  inscription  upon  it.  Hath  death  its  fopperies! 
— I  should  wish  every  thing  to  be  merely  decorous — belovr 
par — indeed  considerably  below  par  to  what  is  usual  on  such 
occasions. — If  it  be  judged  quite  essential  for  a  parson  to  lie 
within  the  church-walls,  I  will  not  put  such  a  negative  upon 
it  as  would  be  distressing  to  survivors,  though  I  think  the 
dirtiest  hole  good  enough.  Whoever  is  paid,  I  wish  the 
men  who  carry  me  to  that  long  home  to  be  amply  remuner- 
ated.— There  is  a  long  document  which  I  wrote  some  years 
ago — a  sort  of  counterpart  to  the  Force  of  Truth:  I  do  not 
wish  any  use  to  be  made  of  it,  but  perhaps  it  may  prevent 
errors  and  mistakes.     I  want  no  memoirs  nor  obituaries.' 

"On  another  occasion,  he  desired  that  if  any  funeral  ser- 
mon were  to  be  preached  for  him,  it  might  be,  by  all  means 
be  on  a  week  day,  not  on  a  Sunday:  probably  from  tender- 
ness for  the  feelings  of  neighboring  ministers,  whose  congre- 
gations might  otherwise  be  drawn  away  from  them  on  the  oc- 
casion. And  he  intimated  that  the  sentence,  God  be  merciful 
tome  a  sinner^  {Luke  xviii,  K^,)  might  furnish  a  very  proper 
text:"  dwelling  on  the  word  ixxaB^Ti^  as  implying  mercy 
through  a  propitiation;  and  the  words  rv  etfMt^Tei}<u^  as  sig- 
nifying emphatically  the  sinner. 

After  my  arrival  (on  Thursday,  March  29,)  fewer  notes 
were  made.  He  frequently  slumbered  a  good  deal,  and 
said  less  than  before  One  object,  moreover,  proposed,  in 
the  memorandums  no  longer  required  them.  My  sister, 
however,  has  made  the  following  minutes: 

"He  still  observed  how  his  time  passed,  and  lamented  his 
incapacity  to  spend  it  constantly  in  prayer  and  praise. 
*Could  1  be  sure,'  he  said,  'that  1  was  totally  unable^  I  should 
be  more  satisfied:  but  I  feel  guilty.  I  seem  at  such  times  of 
stupor  as  if  I  had  not  fellowship  either  with  the  church  on 
earth,  or  that  in  heaven.' 

"On  one  occasion,  after  complaining  of  interruption  by 
which  he  had  been  'kept  from  praying,  he  thought,  for  an 
hour  and  a  half,'  on  being  reminded  how  soon  he  would  serve 
God  day  and  night  without  ceasing,  he  exclaimed,  with  an 
energy  of  which  we  thought  him  incapable,  'O  what  a  transi- 
tion!' 

"On  Tuesday,  April  11,  my  two  younger  brothers,  with 
his  grandson,  were  compelled  to  leave  him.  The  parting 
was  solemn,  and  deeply  affecting.  He  poured  forth  prayers 
for  them  and  theirs  with  his  usual   fervor;  and  continued, 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  381 

long  after  they  left  the  room,  raising  his  hands  and  eyes  to 
heaven  in  silent  supplication,  with  an  expression  of  counte- 
nance which  can  never  be  forgotten  hy  those  who  wit- 
nessed. 

"On  Sunday,  April  15,  he  dismissed  me  to  church  in  a 
very  animated  manner.  Alter  blessing  me,  and  imploring 
blessings  on  all  who  should  worship)  with  me,  and  on  all 
the  congregations  of  Christ's  church,  he  said,  raising  his 
hands  with  great  animation,  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God^  the  God 
of  Israel.)  -who  only  doeth  -wondrous  things^  and  let  the  Tchole  earth 
be  filled  with  his  glory.  He  is  highly  exalted  above  all  blessing 
and  praise. 

"On  our  return,  he  said  to  his  curate,  'I  hoped  I  should 
have  done  first.'  Mr.  A.  congratulated  him  on  the  happi- 
ness he  enjoj'ed.  'No,'  he  said,  'you  are  mistaken:  my  soul 
is  not  happy  now;  it  is  still  diseased:  hut  I  am  waiting,  and 
expecting  soon  to  be  quite  happy.'  Still  his  feeling  was, 
that  nothing  but  heaven  could  satisfy  his  enlarged  desires. 
He  added  many  prayers  for  Mr.  A.,  and  for  the  success  of 
his  ministry. 

"On  Monday,  while  he  was  suffering  great  oppression,  he 
said  to  the  poor  afflicted  woman,  who  had  so  long  been  an 
inmate  in  his  family:  'This  is  hard  work:  but  let  us  think  of 
heaven;  let  us  hope  for  heaven;  let  us  pray  for  heaven. 
We  shall  soon  meet  again.'  " 

In  letters  to  friends,  or  members  of  the  family  still  absent, 
a  few  sentences  have  likewise  been  preserved.  In  this 
way  his  observations  on  'posthumous  reputation;'  his 
prayers  'not  to  be  abhorred  of  God,  though  nbhorriblc,  and 
abhorring  himself — to  be  made  'one  of  those  in  whom 
Christ  should  come  to  be  admired  in  that  day;''  and  some  oth- 
ers, have  been  already  reported. 

It  may  be  remarked,  in  general,  that  his  use  of  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Lord's  prayer  was  continual,  during  every  part 
of  his  illness;  as  was  likewise  that  of  various  parts  of  the 
Church  Liturgy,  particularly  of  the  Communion  Service,  and 
the  sentence  in  the  Burial  Service,  "Suffer  me  not,  at  my 
last  hour,  for  any  pains  of  death  to  fall  from  thee!" 

His  constant  recurrence  to  my  expression,  "In  God's  good 
time,"  continued  to  the  very  end  of  his  illness.  On  another 
occasion,  on  my  suggesting  the  great  tenderness  of  the  lan- 
guage in  the  ciiid  Psalm,  "Like  as  a  Mher  pitieth  his  chil- 
dren., so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear  him.,''''  he  expressed 
his  sense  pf  it,  and  immediately  connected  with  it  one  in  the 


382  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XV.I. 

Liturgy,  which  he  said  he  greatly  admired — "Let  the  piti- 
fulness  of  thy  great  mercy  loose  us." — Another  time  1  re- 
minded him  ot'one  of  the  triumphant  verses  at  the  close  of  the 
Ixxiiid  Psalm;  and,  on  his  questioning  whether  it  might  be 
applied  to  him,  (as  I  was  aware  he  might  probably  do,)  I 
remarked  the  writer's  darkness  and  temptation  in  the  former 
partof  the  psalm — as  if  "God  had  forgotten  to  be  gracious," 
and  had  shut  up  his  loving  kindness  in  displeasure*' — but  that 
in  the  end  he  found  it  was  "his  owninfirmity,"and  that  he  was 
^'continually  with  God,"  God  had  all  the  time  "holden  him  by 
his  right  hand."  (Verse  23.)  He  replied  "VV^ell,  itis  one  of 
the  passages  that  1  keep  working  upon.'''' — One  morning,  near 
the  close  of  his  life,  I  expressed  regret  that  he  had  spent  so 
distressing  a  night:  his  reply  was  in  the  one  word  "Pfl^i/" 
with  an  air  of  inditference  to  it,  as  having  no  longer  any 
existence. 

Some  further  passages  from  the  obituary  may  here  be 
introduced. 

"Throughout  his  illness,  all  his  tempers  and  dispositions 
marked  a  soul  ripe  for  heaven.  His  patience  was  most  ex- 
emplary, though  this  was  the  grace  which,  almost  more 
than  any  other,  he  feared  would  fail;  but  it  increased  to  the 
end.  On  the  only  point  on  which  any  approach  to  impa- 
tience had  been  discovered — his  desire  to  depart — he  had 
become  almost  perfectly  resigned;  and  though  he  still  in- 
quired frequently  if  any  'token  for  good,'  as  he  called  the 
symptoms  of  dissolution,  appeared,  yet  on  receiving  a  neg- 
ative answer,  he  only  observed,  'Then  I  must  seek  a  fresh 
stock  of  patience.' — His  kindness  nnd  affection,  to  all  who 
approached  him,  were  carried  to  the  greatest  height  and 
shewed  themselves  in  a  singularly  minute  attention  to  all 
their  feehngs,  and  whatever  might  be  for  their  comfort,  to 
a  degree  that  was  quite  affecting;  especially  at  a  time  when 
Jie  was  suffering  so  much  himself,  often  in  mind  as  well  as 
body. — Even  in  the  darkest  times.  Thou  art  righteous! 
Father,  glorify  thy  «ame!  solemnly  enunciated,  was  the 
sentence  most  frequently  on  his  lips,  and  marked  his  pro- 
found submission. ^r^tlis  humility  and  sense  of  utter  unworthi- 
ness  seemed  more  deep  than  words  could  express. — It  need 
scarcely  be  said  that  Christ  was  now  more  precious  in  his 
eyes  than  ever;  and  his  expressions  of  exclusive,  undivided, 
and  adoring  adherence  to  him  for  salvation,  if  possible  more 
strong. — x\t  the  same  time,  he  refused  the  appropriation  to 
hiaiself  of  those  promises  which  belong  only  to  true  be- 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  383 

lievers  in  Christ,  except  as  it  could  be  shewn  that  he  bore 
the  character  commonly  annexed  to  the  promise — such  as 
those  that  year  the  Lord,  that  love  God,  repent^  believe^  and 
obey.  When  he  could  not  trace  this  in  himself,  he  would 
have  recourse  onlj  to  those  which  encourage  even  the  chief 
of  sinners  to  come  to  Christ,  and  assure  them,  that  him  that 
Cometh  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  out. 

"In  this  connexion  it  may  be  remarked,  that  whatever 
dissatisfaction  with  himself  he  at  any  time  expressed,  he 
never  intimated  the  least  wavering  as  to  the  truths  which 
he  had  spent  his  life  in  inculcating,  or  impeached  his  own 
sincerity  and  faithfulness  in  the  discharge  of  hismmistry." 

i  only  add  further,  that  he  would  always,  when  he  re- 
ceived the  sacrament,  and,  after  a  short  prayer,  which, 
during  the  latter  part  of  the  time,  we  every  night  offered 
up  with  him,  have  repeated  to  him  the  affecting  commenda- 
tion in  the  service  for  the  Visitation  of  the  Sick;  "Unto 
God's  gracious  mercy  and  protection  we  commit  thee:  the 
Lord  bleps  thee  and  keep  thee:  the  Lord  make  his  face  to 
shine  upon  thee,  and  be  gracious  unto  thee:  the  Lord  lift  up 
his  countenance  upon  thee,  and  give  thee  peace,  both  now 
and  evermore:"  and  most  affecting  was  the  solemnity  with 
which  he  listened,  and  pronounced  his  Amen  to  it. 

Three  days  after  his  death,  I  made  the  following  memo- 
randum of 

'''His  FEARS   which   were  never   realized. 

"1.  That  he  should  bring  any  blot  upon  his  profession. 
In  addition  to  the  dread  with  which  every  zealous  Christian, 
who  loves  God  and  man,  will  regard  such  an  event,  he 
felt  himself  placed  in  a  peculiar  situation,  on  account  of 
the  attention  which  he  had  attracted:  thai  many  eyes  were 
upon  him:  that  a  material  false  step  or  inconsistency  in  him 
might,  in  a  great  degree,  frustrate  the  labors  of  a  long  and 
indefatigable  Hfe.  This  was  not  merely  the  apprehension 
of  his  death-bed,  but  one  which  had  for  years  influenced  him 
to  walk  circumspectly.  But  now  he  rests  from  all  such  anx- 
iety. All  danger  of  this  kind  is  past  for  ever.  Death  has 
put  his  broad  seal  upon  the  whole,  and  rendered  what  is 
done  irrevocable.  And,  blessed  be  God!  the  whole  is  sub' 
stantially  good, 

"2.  Lest,  m  a  period  of  enfeebled  powers,  he  should 
unsay  any  things,  which,  in  a  more  sound  state  of  mind,  he 


384  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS  [Chap.  XVI. 

had  inculcated,  and  should  thus  convey  any  less  strict  and 
less  scriptural  views  of  Christian  truth  and  duty;  and  that 
this,  getting  abroad,  should  weaken  the  effect  of  what  he 
had  previously  taught.  But,  so  far  from  this  being  the  case, 
-  whatever  past,  even  to  his  latest  hour,  has  tended  more 
deeply  to  impress  the  serious,  holy,  practical  views  of  the 
gospel  which  he  always  presented. 

"3.  Lest,  even  under  the  influence  of  delirium,  he  should 
be  driven  to  say  or  do  any  thing  offensive  or  dishonorable  to 
God.  He  trembled  lest,  in  this  way  at  least,  Satan  should 
get  any  advantage  against  him^  and  thus  take  some  'revenge 
on  him'  at  last,  for  what  he  had  done  against  his  kingdom 
during  life.  He  seemed  to  apprehend  a  peculiar  'effort'  of 
this  sort  against  him;  and  therefore  prayed  constantly, 
Bruise  Satan  under  my  feet  shortly:  and  deprecated  most 
earnestly  the  least  failure  of  patience  and  resignation  to  the 
will  of  God. — And  in  these  respects  too  he  was  heard  in  that 
he  feared.  Nothing  amounting  to  what  is  commonly  esteemed 
delirium  ever  occurred:  nor  did  a  word  expressive  of  any 
thing  contrary  to  the  deepest  piety  and  submission  escape 
his  lips.'  And  his  patience,  under  protracted  and  often  very 
severe  suffering,  it  was  perfectly  delightful  to  behold. 

"4.  At  times,  though  not  generally,  he  even  dreaded  the 
consequences  of  death:  'Not,'  said  he,  (as  it  has  already  been 
related,)  'that  I  have  not  prevailing  hope.'  But,  about  tea 
days  before  his  death,  he  observed,  'I  have  not  the  dread 
which  1  felt  of  the  consequences  of  death:'  and  he  said  httle 
afterwards  that  indicated  any  return  of  it. 

••'5.  But  a  dread  of  death  itself,  of  the  act  and  agony  of 
dying,  next  harassed  his  mind.  'No  man,'  he  said,  'can  tell 
me  what  death  is;  and  I  have  an  iron-strength  of  constitution 
which  makes  me  tremble  for  the  last  struggle.' — But  this 
too  subsided,  and  disappeared:  and,  when  the  time  came,  oh 
how  mercifully  was  he,  and  were  we  all,  dealt  with,  even 
in  this  minor  consideration!  There  was  no  agony,  no  strug- 
gle whatever.  His  countenance  assumed  a  placid  expres- 
sion— one  might  almost  say,  a  sweet  and  heavenly  smile: 
and  the  whole  appearance  was  more  Hke  that  of  an  infant 
sinking  into  sleep,  than  that  of  a  strong  man  expiring." 

6.   It  might  have  been  added,  that,  whereas  he  had  anti-  ' 
cipated  at  least  departing  under  gloom  and  darkness,  his 
darkness  from  time  to  time  dispersed,  and  a  heavenly  light 
shone  in   upon  his  mind.     The  cheerful,  as  welt  as  holy, 
sentiments  which  he  expressed  on  Sundaj,  the  day  before 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  38$ 

his  death,  have  been  recorded,  and  the  "delightful  things'' 
which  he  uttered  on  the  day  of  his  dissolution  have  been 
alluded  to,  though  no  distinct  memorandum  was  made  of 
them. — On  the  whole,  therefore,  we  may  with  adoring 
thankfulness,  conclude — 

"Not  one  thing  that  he   feared  came  upon  him:    but 
every  hope  was  realized  or  exceeded." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

HIS   CHARACTER HABITS SENTIMENTS    ON   EDUCATION. 

It  has  been  my  aim,  in  the  preceding  memoirs,  to  place  the 
subject  of  them  so  fully  in  the  view  of  my  readers — speak- 
ing, writing,  acting  before  them, — as  to  achieve  that  which 
an  ancient  Roman  poet  is  said  to  have  accomplished  in  his 
own  writings — 

Ut  omnis 
Votiva  pateat  velutl  descripta  tabella 
Yita  senis. 

So  far  therefore  as  I  have  attained  ray  object,  the  necessity 
of  any  elaborate  attempt,  on  my  part,  to  deUneate  my 
father's  character  is  superseded:  he  must  be  already  better 
known  than  mere  description  could  make  him. 

Mr.  Wilson,  however,  has  given  to  the  public,  in  his 
funeral  sermons,  a  very  masterly  sketch  of  "the  chief  cir- 
cumstances both  of  the  public  and  private  character"  of 
his  departed  friend,  which  1  should  feel  it  a  very  essential 
omission  not  to  introduce  into  the  present  work.  This 
therefore  I  shall  insert, — premising  that  it  will  serve  to 
characterize  some  of  my  father's  principal  writings,  as  well 
as  to  pourtray  their  author.  After  this  1  shall  subjoin  some 
additional  particulars,  which  have  occurred  to  my  own 
mind. 

"In  considering  the  public  labors  of  our  venerable  friend," 
observes  Mr.  W.,  "we  shall  find  that,  after  the  Apostle's  ex- 
'am\)ie^he  fought  a  good  f.ght,  finished  his  course^  and  kept  the 
faith. 

"The  manner  in  which  he  was  called  to  the  spiritual 

combat  was  remarkable.      His  narrative  of  this  spiritual 

change,  we  may  venture  to  assert,  will  be  classed  in  iuture 

times  with  the  most  important  of  those  various  works,  which 

33 


386  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVII. 

in  different  ages  have  recorded  the  triumphs  of  the^gcppel 
of  Christ.  'The  Force  of  Truth'  cannot  indeed  be  equalled 
with  'The  Confessions  of  St.  Augustine;'  but  it  bears  a  gen- 
eral similarity  to  that  incomparable  work,  in  exemplifying 
the  main  features  of  a  truly  Christian  conversion,  in  afford- 
ing a  striking  illustration  of  the  divine  grace,  and  in  setting 
before  us  an  impressive  picture  of  a  laborious  and  success- 
ful investigation  of  truth.  It  reminds  the  reader  yet  more 
sensibly,  though  still  with  a  wide  interval,  of  the  early  his- 
tory of  Luiher,  and  of  the  painful  working  out  of  his  own 
way  by  intense  prayer  and  study  of  the  scriptures  which 
distinguished  that  great  reformer.  The  church  has,  in 
fact,  seen  few  examples,  in  these  latter  daj^s,  of  the  efficacy 
of  the  doctrine  of  Christ  so  minutely  and  satisfactorily  de- 
tailed by  the  avowals  of  the  individuals  themselves,  as  in 
the  instance  which  we  are  now  considering.  We  here  be- 
hold a  man  of  strong  natural  powers,  intrenched  in  the 
sophistries  of  human  pride,  and  a  determined  opponent  of 
almost  all  the  chief  truths  of  the  gospel,  gradually  convinc- 
ed and  subdued.  We  see  him  engaging  in  a  laborious  study 
of  the  scripture  with  opinions  and  prejudices  firmly  fixed, 
and  reluctant  to  admit  a  humiliating  scheme  of  theology: 
yet  borne  on,  contrary  to  his  expectations  and  wishes  and 
worldly  interest,  by  the  simple  energy  of  truth.  Wa  view 
him  arriving,  to  his  own  dismay,  at  one  doctrine  after  an- 
other. W^e  behold  him  making  every  step  sure  as  he  ad- 
vances, till  he  at  length  works  out,  by  his  own  diligent,  and 
most  anxious  investigation  of  the  sacred  volume,  all  the 
parts  of  divine  truth,  which  he  afterwards  discovered  to  be 
the  common  faith  of  the  church  of  Christ,  to  be  the  foun- 
dation of  all  the  reformed  communities,  and  to  be  essentially 
united  with  every  part  of  divine  revelation.  He  was  thus 
taught  the  apostolical  doctrines  of  the  deep  fall  and  apostacy 
of  man,  of  his  impotency  to  any  thing  spiritually  good,  the 
proper  atonement  and  satisfaction  of  Christ,  the  triunity  of 
persons  in  the  Godhead,  regeneration  and  progressive  sanc- 
tification  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  justification  by  faith  only,  and 
salvation  by  grace.  These  great  principles  he  perceived 
to  be  indissolubly  connected  with  repentance  unto  life,  sep- 
aration from  the  sinful  customs  and  spirit  of  the  world,  self- 
denial  and  the  bearing  of  reproach  for  Christ's  sake,  holy 
love  to  God  and  man,  and  activity  in  every  good  word  and 
work. — Further  he  learnt  to  unite  both  these  series  of 
truths  with  dependence  upon  Christ  fop  the  supply  of  needful 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  38^7 

grace,  humble  trust  in  his  promises  for  final  victory,  and  an 
tinreserved  ascription  of  all  blessings  to  the  divine  grace. — 
Lastly,  and  after  some  interval,  he  embraced  the  doctrines 
relating  to  the  secret  and  merciful  wrill  of  God  in  our  elec- 
tion in  Christ  Jesus:  although  he  did  not  think  a  belief  in 
these  mysterious  doctrines  to  be  indispensable  to  salvation, 
nor  consider  the  evidence  for  them,  satisfactory  as  he 
deemed  it,  to  carry  with  it  that  irresistible  conviction  which 
had  attended  his  inquiries  with  respect  to  those  essential 
and  directly  vital  truths  of  religion  before  enumerated. 
The  whole  narrative  of  the  change  which  led  to  the  adop- 
tion of  these  views  of  religion,  is  so  honest,  and  so  evident- 
ly free  from  enthusiasm,  as  to  constitute  a  most  striking 
testimony  to  the  eflicacy  of  the  grace  of  God. 

"After  he  had  once  discovered  and  embraced  in  all  their 
fulness  and  practical  appUcation,  the  chief  doctrines  of  the 
New  Testament,  he  may  truly  be  said  to  have  kept  the faitk 
with  undeviating  constancy.  During  forty-five  years  he 
continued  to  teach  and  write  and  live  in  the  spirit  of  those 
holy  principles.  What  he  was  with  respect  to  them,  in 
the  earliest  part  of  this  period,  the  same  he  continued  in  the 
latest,  except  as  each  year  added  something  to  his  convic- 
tion of  their  truth,  and  to  the  maturity  of  his  judgment  re- 
specting them.  There  are  few  writers  in  whom  consistency 
is  so  strikingly  observable  through  so  many  voluminous 
works.*  He  was  placed  at  different  periods  of  his  life  in 
many  scenes  of  peculiar  difficulty,  where  the  current  of 
opinion  within  as  well  as  without  his  own  more  immediate 
circle,  might  have  induced  him  to  vary  or  conceal  the  faith 
upon  some  points  of  importance;  but  nothing  moved  him 
from  his  oivn  steadfastness.'}  Nor  was  his  scheme  of  doc- 
trine more  apostolical,  than  his  method  of  publicly  expound- 
ing and  applying  it  in  his  sermons  and  writings.  He  kept 
the  faith.,  by  ever  maintaining  a  theology,  not  only  pure  and 
orthodox  as  to  its  constituent  elements  and  general  charac- 
ter, but  scripturally  exact  in  the  arrangement,  the  propor- 
tions, the  symmetry,  the  harmony  of  its  several  doctrines, 
and  in  the  use  to  which  each  was,  on  the  proper  occasion, 
applied.  In  this  view,  the  habit  which  he  had  been  led  to 
form  of  studying  the  scripture  for  himself,  and  of  diligently 
comparing  all  its  parts  with  each  other,  was  of  essential 

•  Six  volumes  quarto,  aad  nine  or  ten  large  volumes  octavo, 
t  2  Pet.  iii,  17. 


388  CHARACTER  [Chaf.  XVIL 

service.  He  was  not  a  man  of  ordinary  mould.  The  hum- 
ble submission  to  every  part  of  divine  revelation,  the  absti- 
nence from  metaphysical  subtleties,  the  entire  reliance  on 
the  inspired  doctrine  in  all  its  bearings  and  consequences, 
the  candor  on  points  really  doubtful  or  of  less  vital  impor- 
tance, which  are  the  characteristics  of  his  writings,  give 
them  extraordinary  value.  While,  for  example,  he  firmly 
believed  the  essential  and  vital  truths  which  i  before  no- 
ticed, he  held  with  no  less  firmness  the  accountableness  of 
man,  the  perpetual  obligation  of  the  holy  law,  the  necessity 
of  addressing  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  sinners,  and  of 
using  without  reserve  the  commands,  cautions,  and  threat- 
enings  so  copiously  employed  in  the  inspired  booksj  the  im- 
portance of  close  inquiries  into  the  detail  of  private,  social, 
and  relative  duties,  the  necessity  of  pointing  out  those  im- 
perfections of  temper  or  practice,  by  which  a  false  religion 
betrays  its  unsoundness,  and  of  following  out  the  grand 
branches  of  scripture  morals  into  their  proper  fruits  in  the 
regulation  of  the  life.  In  a  word,  he  entered  as  fully  into 
the  great  system  of  plain  means  and  duties  on  the  one  hand, 
as  of  the  mysterious  doctrines  of  divine  grace  on  the  other. 
He  united  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  and  St.  James. 

''With  such  fidelity,  we  wonder  not  that  he  had,  like  the 
Apostle  before  him,  to  fight  a  good  fight.  He  was  not  a 
man  to  receive  the  impression  of  his  age,  but  give  it.  On 
various  occasions  he  thought  it  incumbent  on  him  to  come 
forward  publicly  in  defence  of  the  faith  of  the  gospel;  a 
task  in  the  execution  of  which  the  firmest  adherence  to 
truth,  and  a  candid  treatment  of  his  opponents,  were  ever 
united  with  singular  knowledge  of  scripture;  with  great 
acuteness  of  reasoning,  and  with  a  simple  honesty  of  pur- 
pose and  of  principle,  which  it  was  difficult  for  an  impartial 
inquirer  to  withstand.  At  the  time  when  he  first  began  to 
preach  the  gospel  faithfully,  he  found  many  who  had  ha- 
bituated themselves  to  such  statements  of  the  grace  and 
privileges  of  Christianity,  as  tended  insensibly  to  injure  the 
minds  of  their  hearers,  by  inducing  them  to  separate  the 
duties  of  the  Bible  from  its  doctrines.  With  such  fatal  errors 
he  made  no  compromise.  His  early  writings  were  chiefly 
directed  against  this  clrtss  of  tenets,  which,  however,  unin- 
tentionally on  the  part  of  some  who  maintained  them,  verg- 
ed towards  the  Antinomian  heresy.  At  a  later  period  he 
engaged  in  a  very  diiferent  service — a  contest  with  the  ad- 
herents of  infidelity.     Towards  the  close  of  his  days,  opin  • 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  389 

ions  tending  to  magnify  human  merit,  and  in  their  effect 
subversive  of  the  doctrines  of  divine  grace,  attracted  his 
notice,  and  were  encountered  by  him  with  the  same  manli- 
ne-is  of  resistance,  which  in  earlier  hfe  he  had  opposed  to 
errors  of  contrary  description.  In  all  these  instances  few 
will  hesitate  to  allow  that  he  fought  a  good  fight.  The  prej- 
udices with  which  a  living  controversialist  cannot  fail  to  be 
regarded,  must  of  course  be  allowed  to  subside,  before  a 
calm  judgment  can  be  formed  of  his  merits  as  a  dis- 
putant,— or  in  general  as  a  writer.  But,  when  that  period 
shall  arrive,  I  doubt  not  that  his  laborious  productions,  more 
especially  his  masterly  reply  to  the  work  entitled,  'A  Ref- 
utation of  Calvinism,'  will  be  admitted  to  rank  amongst  the 
soundest  theological  writings  of  our  age. 

"In  these  and  other  labors,  he  '•finished  his  course."^  For 
bis  attention  was  not  absorbed  in  his  writings.  He  was  a 
laborious  minister  in  every  function  of  that  sacred  calling, 
and  especially  in  the  more  retired  walks  of  it.  In  the  pulpit 
indeed  an  asthmatical  atfection,  added  to  a  strong  provincial 
accent,  an  inattention  to  style  and  manner,  and  prolixity,  ren- 
dered his  discourses  less  attractive  than  those  of  many  very 
inferior  men;  though  even  here,  such  were  the  richness  and 
originality  of  his  matter,  such  his  evident  acquaintance  with 
scripture,  and  with  the  human  heart,  and  such  the  skill  which 
he  evinced  as  a  Christian  moralist,  that  by  hearers  of  atten- 
tive and  reflecting  minds  he  was  listened  to,  not  only  with 
respect,  but  with  delight.  But  in  visiting  the  sick,  in  resolv- 
ing cases  of  conscience,  in  counselling  young  ministers,  in 
assisting  various  religious  and  benevolent  institutions,  his 
success  was  peculiarly  great.  Indeed,  if  his  exertions 
as  an  author  were  left  out  of  consideration,  his  other  labors 
for  forty-five  years  as  the  chaplain  of  a  hospital,  as  a  par- 
ish priest,  and  generally  as  a  member  of  society,  and  of  the 
Christian  church,  would  place  him  on  a  level  with  most 
pious  clergymen,  however  zealous,  diligent,  or  useful. 

"But  his  widest  and  most  important  field  of  usefulness,  and 
that  which  I  have  reserved  for  the  last  topic  in  the  consider- 
ation of  his  public  character,  was  as  a  commentator  on  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  In  this  he  may  be  truly  said  to  hiwe  finished 
his  course,  as  well  sls  fought  a  good  fight,  and  kepi  the  faith.  It ; 
is  difhcult  to  form  a  just  estimate  of  a  work  on  which  such  an 
author  labored  for  thicty-three  years,  (t  entitles  him  of. 
itself  to  rank  at  the  head  of  the  theolog-ians  of  his  own 
time,  as  at  once  the  most  laborious  and  important  writer  of 
*o3 


390  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVII. 

the  day.  The  capital  excellency  of  this  valuable  and  im- 
mense undertaking  perhaps  consists  in  the  following  more 
closely  than  any  other,  the  fair  and  adequate  meaning  of 
every  part  of  scripture,  without  regard  to  the  niceties  of 
human  systems:  it  is  in  every  sense  of  the  expression  a 
scriptural  comment.  It  has  likewise  a  further  and  a  strong 
recommendation  in  its  originality.  Every  part  of  it  is 
thought  out  by  the  author  for  himself,  not  borrowed  from 
others.  The  later  editions  indeed  are  enriched  with  brief 
and  valuable  quotations  from  several  writers  of  credit — but 
the  substance  of  the  work  is  entirely  his  own.  It  is  not  a 
compilation,  it  is  an  original  production,  in  which  you  have 
the  deliberate  judgment  of  a  masculine  and  independent 
mind  on  all  the  parts  of  Holy  Scripture.  Every  student  will 
understand  the  value  of  such  a  work.  Further,  it  is  the 
comment  of  our  age,  presenting  many  of  the  last  lights 
which  history  casts  on  the  interpretation  of  prophecy, 
giving  several  of  the  remarks  which  sound  criticism  has  ac- 
cumulated from  the  diflerent  branches  of  sacred  literature, 
obviating  the  chief  objections  which  modern  annotators 
have  advanced  against  some  of  the  distinguishing  doctrines 
of  the  gospel,  and  adapting  the  instructions  of  scripture  to 
the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  times  in  which  we  live.  I 
may  observe  also  that  the  faults  of  method  and  style  which 
considerably  detract  From  the  merit  of  some  of  his  other 
writings,  are  less  apparent  here,  where  he  had  only  to  fol- 
low the  order  of  thought  in  the  sacred  book  itself;  whilst 
all  his  powers  and  attainments  have  their  full  scope.  It  was 
the  very  undertaking  which  required,  less  than  any  other, 
the  qualifications  which  he  did  not  possess,  and  demanded, 
more  than  any  other,  those  in  which  he  excelled.  It  required 
matured  knowledge  of  scripture,  skill  as  a  textuary,  sterling 
honesty,  a  firm  grasp  of  truth,  unfeigned  submission  of  mind 
to  every  part  of  the  inspired  records,  a  holy  temper  of 
heart,  unparalleled  diligence  and  perseverance:  and  these 
were  the  very  characteristics  of  the  man. — When  to  these 
particulars  it  is  added  that  he  lived  to  superintend  four  edi- 
tions, each  enriched  with  much  new  and  important  matter,and 
had  been  engaged  above  three  years  in  a  new  one,  in  which 
for  the  fifth  time  he  had  nearly  completed  a  most  laborious 
revision  of  the  whole  work,  we  must  at  least  allow  the  extent 
and  importance  of  the  author's  exertions.  Accordingly  the 
success  of  the  work  has  been  rapidly  and  steadily  increasing 
from  the  first,  not  only  in  our  own  country,  but  wherever  the 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  391 

English  language  is  known.  It  will  soon  be  in  the  hands  of 
most  careful  students  of  the  holy  volume,  whether  in  the  first 
instance,  they  agree  with  the  author's  chief  sentiments  or 
not.  Nor  is  the  time  distant,  when,  the  passing  controver- 
sies of  the  day  having  been  forgotten,  this  prodigious  work 
will  generally  be  confessed  in  the  protestant  churches,  to  be 
one  of  the  most  sound  and  instructive  commentaries  pro- 
duced in  our  own  or  any  other  age. 

"To  these  more  public  labors,  I  proceed  to  add  the  char- 
acteristics of  his  private  life  as  a  Christian,  which  corres- 
ponded to  them,  and  were  indeed,  under  the  divine  blessing, 
their  spring  and  source.  All  he  did  as  a  writer  and  a  minis- 
ter proceeded  from  what  he  was  as  a  humble  believer  in  Je- 
sus Christ.  In  this  view  also,  he/ought  a  good  Jight.,  finished 
his  course^  and  kept  the  faith. 

^^Determination  of  mind  in  serving  God  formed  the  basis 
of  his  character,  and  gave  strength  and  firmness  to  every 
other  part  of  it.  Whatever  else  he  was,  he  was  most  deci- 
sive in  religion.  From  the  time  he  began  in  earnest  to  in- 
vestigate the  doctrines  of  the  Bible  for  himself,  he  not  only 
admitted  them  as  true,  in  proportion  as  he  discovered  them 
to  be  such,  but  acted  upon  them,  governed  his  temper  and 
conduct  by  them,  fearlessly  professed  them  before  men,  and 
cheerfully  suffered  whatever  reproach  or  difficulties  they 
might  occasion.  No  one  could  ever  mistake  him.  He  al- 
ways avowed  what  he  conscientiously  beheved  to' be  true, 
whatever  others,  even  Jais  nearest  connexions,  might  think. 
Timidity,  reserve,  subterfuge,Goncealment,  ambiguity,  love 
of  the  world,  were  not  his  faults.  The  manner  in  which 
he  had  slowly  and  reluctantly  arrived  at  truth  at  first,  gave 
him  such  an  assured  confidence  that  he  was  right,  that  noth- 
ing afterwards  could  turn  him  aside.  The  fashionable  opin- 
ions or  practices  of  the  day,  the  number  or  station  of  his 
opponents,  the  distractions  and  divisions  of  parties,  the 
plausible  appearance  of  certain  errors,  the  reputation  for 
piety  or  talent  of  those  who  incautiously  favored  them,  made 
no  difference  to  him.  A  powerful  discriminating  judg- 
ment, and  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  every  part  of 
scripture,  gave  such  a  tone  of  firmness  to  his  habits  of 
thinking  and  acting,  that  he  seemed  like  a  giant  taking  his 
course  among  children,  regardless  of  their  puny  opposition, 
and  bent  only  on  the  achievement  of  his  own  great  objects. 
It  must,  on  the  other  hand,  be  owned  that  he  sometimes 
erred  by  want  of  sufficient  cousideration  for  the  feelings 


392  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVII. 

and  prejudices  of  others,  and  sometimes  was  betrayed  into 
rudeness  and  over-confidence — I  wish  not  to  conceal  his 
human  failings — but  these  failings  he  constantly  opposed, 
and  as  he  advanced  in  life  almost  entirely  subdued;  whilst 
the  sterling  honesty  and  determination  of  his  character,  the 
spring  of  all  his  usefulness,  remained  unimpaired. 

''^Extraordinary  diligence  was  the  handmaid  to  his  capital 
excellency.  He  was  always  at  work,  always  busy,  always 
redeeming  time;  yet  never  in  a  hurry.  His  heart  was  given 
up  to  his  pursuits;  he  was  naturally  of  a  studious  turn;  and 
his  labor  was  his  delight.  He  gradually  acquired  in  a 
degree  beyond  most  men,  the  habit  of  abstracting  his  mind 
from  sensible  objects,  and  of  concentrating  his  thoughts  on 
a  particular  topic;  nor  could  the  distractions  inseparable 
from  a  hurried  journey,  or  from  a  walk  through  the  busy 
scenes  of  a  great  city,  at  all  divert  him  on  such  occasions 
from  the  course  of  thought  in  which  he  was  engaged. 
And  whenever  a  subject  which  he  had  once  studied,  was 
proposed  to  him,  he  could  immediately  fix  his  mind  intently 
upon  it,  and  recal  all  the  chief  arguments  by  which  it  was 
supported.  So  that  he  lived,  in  fact,  twice  the  time  that 
most  other  students  do  in  the  same  number  of  years.  To 
support  this  he  had  an  iron-strength  of  constitution.  And 
for  five  or  six  and  forty  years  he  studied  eight  or  ten  hours 
a  day,  and  frequently  twelve  or  fourteen,  except  when  in- 
terrupted by  sickness.  His  very  relaxations  were  often 
equal  to  the  diligence  of  others.  Bjat  it  was  not  merely  in- 
cessant labor  which  distinguished  this  remarkable  man — it 
was  incessant  labor  directed  to  important  objects.  His  at- 
tention was  always  occupied  by  his  proper  work.  He  was 
not  merely  studious,  but  studious  of  what  was  immediately 
useful.  He  was  not  a  desultory  reader  attracted  by  every 
novelty,  and  wasting  his  time  on  inferior  topics  or  authors 
of  less  moment;  but  a  reader  of  what  was  solid  and  appro- 
priate and  directly  subservient  to  the  great  subject  in  hand. 
From  an  early  age,  indeed,  he  was  almost  entirely  self- 
taught;  the  only  education  he  received  having  been  at  a 
grammar-school,  from  the  age  of  ten  to  fifteen.  He  had 
no  aid  afterwards  from  masters,  small  means  for  the  pur- 
chase of  books,  and  scarcely  any  access  to  great  collections, 
A  few  first-rate  works  ibrmed  his  librarj',  and  these  he 
thoroughly  mastered.  He  never  remitted  his  exertions  in 
improving  his  works.  After  thirty-three  years  bestowed  on 
lais  Comment,  he  was  as  assiduous  in  revising,  as  he  had 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  393 

originally  "been  in  composing-  it.  The  marginal  references 
cost  him  seven  years  of  labor.  And  the  interval  between 
the  fourth  and  the  present  edition  was  employed  in  attempt- 
ing a  Concordance  on  a  new  plan  which  he  did  not  live 
to  complete,  but  which  by  keeping  in  exercise  that  minute 
acquaintance  with  Scripture  and  that  aptitude  of  reference, 
for  which  he  was  distinguished,  must  have  materially  as- 
sisted him  in  his  last  revision. 

'4n  his  domestic  circle  his  character  was  most  exemplary. 
No  blot  ever  stained  his  name.  A  disinterestedness  and 
unbending  integrity  in  the  midst  of  many  difficulties  so  raised 
him  in  the  esteem  of  all  who  knew  him,  as  greatly  to  honor 
and  recommend  the  gospel  he  professed.  He  was  in  all  re- 
spects an  excellent  father  of  a  family.  What  he  appeared 
in  his  preachiiag  and  writings,  that  he  was  amongst  his  chil- 
dren and  servants.  He  did  not  neglect  his  private  duties  on 
the  ground  of  public  engagements;  but  he  carried  his  re- 
ligion into  his  house,  and  placed  before  his  family  the  doc- 
trines he  taught,  embodied  in  his  own  evident  uprightness 
of  conduct.  This  determination  and  consistency  in  personal 
religion  instructed  his  children  better  than  a  thousand  set 
lessons.  It  is  indeed  commonly  found  that  the  general  be- 
havior and  conversation  of  parents  produce  a  decidedly 
deeper  impression  on  the  minds  of  the  young  than  any  for- 
mal instructions,  however  in  themselves  excellent.  When 
children  are  addressed  directly,  their  minds  recoil,  or  at 
least  their  attention  is  apt  to  flag;  but  their  own  shrewd  ob- 
servations on  what  they  see  done  or  hear  said  by  others,  on 
the  estimates  which  they  perceive  their  parents  to  form  of 
things  and  characters,  and  on  the  governing  principles  by 
which  they  judge  their  conduct  to  be  regulated,  sink  deep 
into  their  memories,  and  in  fact  constitute  by  far  the  most 
effective  part  of  education.  It  was  on  this  principle  that 
our  deceased  friend  acted.  He  did  not  inculcate  certain  doc- 
trines merely,  or  talk  against  covetousness  and  the  love  of 
the  world,  or  insist  on  the  public  duties  of  the  sabbath,  or 
the  private  ones  of  the  family,  whilst  the  bent  of  his  conver- 
sation was  worldly,  his  tempers  scltish,  his  habits  indulgent, 
and  his  vanity  or  ambition  manifest  under  the  thin  guise  of 
religious  phraseology:  but  he  exhibited  to  his  household  a 
holy  and  amiable  pattern  of  true  piety — he  Was  a  man  of 
God — imperfect  indeed,  but  consistent  and  sincere.  Accord- 
ingly, all  his  children  became,  by  the  divine  mercy,  his  com- 
fort during  life,  and  now  remain  to  call  him  blessed,  and 
kand  down  his  example  to  another  generation. 


394  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVII. 

A  spirit  of  prayer  and  t^evoiion  was,  further,  a  conspicuous 
ornament  of  his  character.  He  lived  near  to  God.*  Inter- 
cessory prayer  was  his  deHght.  He  was  accustomed  in  his 
family-devotions  to  intercede  earnestly  for  the  whole 
church,  for  the  government  of  his  country,  for  the  ministers 
of  religion,  for  those  preparing  for  the  sacred  office,  for 
schools  and  universities,  for  the  different  nations  of  Chris- 
tendom, for  the  heathen  and  Jews,  and  for  all  religious  in- 
stitutions; varying  his  supplications  as  circumstances  seemed 
to  dictate.  As  he  approached  the  close  of  life,  his  deep 
humility  of  mind,  and  his  zeal  for  the  giory  of  his  Savior, 
were  very  affecting  and  edifying  to  those  who  were  present 
on  these  occasions.  He  was  the  aged  saint  filled  with  the 
love  of  God  and  man,  and  supplicating  for  the  whole  human 
race.  More  especially,  he  had  for  above  twenty  years 
been  constantly  imploring  of  God  that  he  would  opea  some 
way  for  the  conversion  of  the  world,  as  well  as  the  more 
extensive  diffusion  of  genuine  Christianity  at  home,  before 
he  saw  any  apparent  means  for  the  accomplishmnent  of  his 
desires;  and,  when  the  establishment  of  the  Bible  and  xMis- 
sionary  institutions  seemed  to  afford  a  prospect  of  the  con- 
summation which  he  had  so  fervently  desired,  his  thanks- 
givings to  God  abounded.  His  studious  and  secluded  life  by 
no  means  produced  any  indifference  as  to  the  active  schemes 
which  were  formed  for  the  salvation  of  mankind,  nor  any 
undue  or  unreasonable  fastidiousness  as  to  the  means  em- 
ployed— iiuilts  often  connected  with  literary  habits — but 
whenever  the  end  of  religious  societies  was  good,  and  the 
methods  they  employed  lawful,  he  prayed  most  earnestly 
for  their  prosperity,  and  blessed  God  for  their  success; 
though  perhaps  in  the  details  of  their  constitution  or  pro- 
ceedings there  might  be  some  things  which  he  could  not 
fully  approve.  Thus  were  his  firmness  and  energy  soften- 
ed by  candor  and  enlarged  benevolence. 

His  faith  and  patience  under  affiictions  must  not  be  omitted. 
Though  his  constitution  in  itSelf  was  robust,  his  health  was 
far  from  being  good.  An  obstinate  asthma  with  exhausting  bil- 
ious attacks  exposed  him  at  times  to  acute  sufferings  for  more 
than  forty  years  of  his  life.  Intiammatory  fever  succeeded 
these  diseases  during  the  last  seven  years,  aggravated  by  a 
malady  most  inconvenient  and  alarming.  He  had  moreover, 
as  those  who  know  his  private  history  are  well  aware,  pain- 

*  Psalm  cxlviii,  \\. 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  395 

ful  mortifications  and  vexations  to  endure  whilst  he  resided 
at  OIncy,  and  still  more  severe  ones  during  a  large  part 
of  the  seventeen  jears  which  he  spent  in  London.  His 
great  work,  the  Commentary,  was  also  the  occasion  of 
almost  constant  perplexity,  embarrassment,  and  disappoint- 
ment for  nearly  the  whole  of  the  first  fourteen  years  of  his 
labors  upon  it;  so  that  almost  any  other  person  would  have 
rehnquished  the  undertaking  in  despair.  To  these  must 
be  added  a  frequent  recurrence  of  severe  domestic  trials 
and  calamities,  often  increased  by  dejection  of  spirits.  Yet 
his  faith  and  patience  bore  up  under  all.  Those  who  ob- 
served him  in  scenes  of  pecuHar  difficulty,  were  often  re- 
minded ef  the  words  of  the  royal  preacher,  the  spirit  of  a 
man  will  sustain  his  infirmity.*  This  seemed  to  be  the 
brief  history  of  his  life.  Perhaps  few  writers,  who  ultimate- 
ly attained  the  esteem  and  iofluence  of  this  remarkable  man 
for  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  labors,  ever  reached  such 
an  eminence  through  greater  disco*uragements  of  almost 
every  description.  During  the  twenty-five  years  preceding 
that  period,  he  had  experienced  inconveniences  and  difficul- 
ties in  a  degree  that  can  scarcely  be  imagined  by  any  but 
his  intimate  friends. 

"I  close  this  review  of  his  character  by  noticing  the  grad- 
ual but  regular  advances  which  he  made  in  every  branch  of 
real  godliness^  and  especially  in  overcoming  his  constitutional 
failings.  This  is,  after  all,  the  best  test  of  Christian  sin- 
cerity. A  man  may  profess  almost  any  principles  or  hold 
any  kind  of  conduct  for  a  time;  but  to  continue  a  self-deny- 
ing course  of  consistent  and  growing  piety,  to  apply  the 
strict  rule  of  the  divine  law  honestly  and  unreservedly  to 
the  whole  of  our  conduct,  to  cultivate  carefully  every 
branch  of  our  duty,  to  resist  and  contend  against  the  evil 
tempers  and  dispositions  to  which  we  are  naturally  most 
prone — and  to  unite  all  this  with  humble  trust  in  the  merits 
of  our  Savior,  and  with  unfeigned  ascription  of  every  thing 
good  in  us  to  His  grace  and  mercy;  this  it  is  that  marks  a 
real  renovation  of  heart,  and  stamps  the  genuine  believer 
in  the  gospel  of  Christ.  And  such  was  the  individual  whom 
we  are  considering.  His  failings,  as  I  have  already  inti- 
mated, lay  on  the  side  of  roughness  and  severity  of  temper, 
pride  of  intellect,  and  confidence  in  his  own  powers.  But 
from  the  time  when  he  first  obeyed  with  his  whole  heart 

*   Proy.  xvilj,  H. 


396  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVII. 

the  truth  of  the  gospel,  he  set  himself  to  struggle  against 
these  and. all  other  evil  tendencies,  to  study  self-control, 
to  aim  at  those  graces  which  are  most  difficult  to  nature, 
and  to  employ  all  the  motives  of  the  gospel  to  assist  him 
in  the  contest;  and  he  gradually  so  increased  in  habitual 
mildness,  humility,  and  tenderness  for  others,  as  to  become 
no  less  exemplary  for  these  virtues,  than  he  had  long  been 
for  the  opposite  qualities  of  religious  courage,  tirmness,  and 
determination.  He  used  to  observe,  that  it  was  no  excuse 
for  a. man  to  allege,  that  this  or  that  holy  temper  was  not 
his  turn;  for  every  grace  ought  to  be,  and  must  be,  the 
turn  of  every  sincere  Christian.  I  can  most  truly  say,  that 
during  an  acquaintance  of  about  twenty-five  years,  which 
gradually  matured,  on  my  part,  into  a  filial  affection,  1  scarcely 
ever  saw  an  instance  of  more  evident  growth  in  real  obedi- 
ence, real  love  to  God  and  man,  real  victory  over  natural 
infirmities,  in  a  word,  real  Christian  holiness.  In  the  con- 
cluding years  of  his  lite,  he  was,  as  it  appeared  to  me,  ob- 
viously ripening  for  heaven.  He  had  fought  a  goodjight, 
he  had  finished  his  course^  he  had  kept  the  faith;  so  that  at 
last  his  genuine  humility  before  God,  his  joy  in  Christ  Jesus, 
his  holy  zeal  for  the  diffusion  of  the  gospel,  his  tender  affec- 
tion to  his  family  and  all  around  him,  his  resignation  to  the 
will  of  his  heavenly  Father,  and  his  exclusive  trust  in  the 
merits  and  grace  of  his  Savior,  seemed  to  leave  little  more 
to  be  done,  but  for  the  stroke  of  death  to  bnng  him  to  his 
grave  in  a  full  age^  like  as  a  shock  of  corn  cometh  in  its  seasonP^ 

To  this  vigorous  and  animated  delineation,  1  shall  now 
add  a  few  particulars  from  my  own  observation  and  reflec- 
tion. 

What  was  the  class  of  intellectual  endowments,  that  dis- 
tinguished my  revered  father,  must  be  obvious  to  all  who 
are  acquainted  with  his  works.  Acuteness,  comprehen- 
sion, close  reasoning,  judgment, — these  are  every  where 
apparent.  In  that  imagination,  which  might  have  enliven- 
ed and  adorned  his  preaching  and  writings,  he  was  no  doubt 
deficient.  Nor  did  he  advance  pretensions  to  that  boldness 
and  novelty  of  conception,  which  bestows  the  title  of  gen- 
ius. Yet  his  train  of  thinking  was  always  marked  by  that 
degree,  at  least,  of  originality  which  made  it  fairly  his  own, 
and  rendered  it  interesting  to  ail  who  were  competent  to ' 
appreciate  it,  and  to  compare  it  with  what  was  current 
among  other  writers  upon  similar  subjects.  His  style  was 
grave  and  unadorned,  but  manly,  and  in  general  clear  and 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  397 

rigorous;  often  conveying  forcible  sentiments  in  a  concise 
and  striking  manner:  and,  as  has  been  intimated  in  a  letter 
inserted  in  this  work,  he  was  studious  to  exclude  those  pe- 
culiarities of  language,  which  have  frequently  given  need- 
less disgust  in  religious  writings;  though  he  could  never 
consent  to  scruple  the  use  of  scriptural  phraseology. — The 
admirable  Henry  Martyn  has  made  the  following  remark 
in  his  journal,  April  26,  1807:  "Began  Scott's  Essays,  and 
was  surprised  indeed  at  the  originality  and  vigor  of  the  sen- 
timents and  language." 

Sound  judgment  was,  equally  with  vigor  and  decision,  the 
characteristic  of  his  mind.  It  discovers  itself  in  his  early 
days,  and  it  grew  in  him  to  the  last;  and  gave,  under  the  di- 
vine guidance  and  teaching,  which  he  so  constantly  suppli- 
cated, that  steadiness  and  consistency  to  his  character,  con- 
duct, and  writings,  which  Mr.  Wilson  has  celebrated.  The 
unprejudiced  observer  will,  I  think,  admit  it  to  be  very 
striking  to  consider,  at  what  sound  and  sober  views  of  scrip- 
tural theology  he  so  early  arrived;  such  that  he  never  saw 
reason  afterwards  to  alter  them  in  any  point  worthy  of  no- 
tice. And  this  did  not  arise  from  his  embracing  in  toto  the 
system  of  any  set  of  men:  he  escaped  the  errors  of  those 
whom  he  joined,  as  well  as  renounced  those  of  the  class 
which  he  had  left.  Thus,  while  acknowledging  in  the 
Force  of  Truth  his  obligations  to  the  writings  of  the  excel- 
lent Mr.  Hervey,  he  still  avows  his  disagreement  with  him 
upon  some  points:  and  late  in  life  he  says  concerning  one 
for  whom  he  entertained  a  great  esteem,  "I  always  thought 
his  writings  on  the  point  of  religious  experience  narcotic 
to  those  within^  and  calculated  to  excite  prejudices,  and  give 
plausibility  to  those  without. ''''  No:  it  was  the  exercise  of  a 
sound,  yet  humble  mind,  in  the  intense  meditation  of  God''s 
testimonies^  which  thus  made  him,  in  some  points,  wiser  than 
Tiis  teachers. 

At  the  close  of  twenty  years,  he  prefixed  to  the  fifth  edi- 
tion of  his  Force  of  Truth,  a  solemn  declaration,  which  he 
renewed  in  every  subsequent  edition  till  his  death,  that 
"every  thing  he  had  experienced,  observed,  heard,  and 
read,  since  the  first  publication  of  the  work,  had  concurred 
in  establishing  his  most  assured  confidence,  that  the  doc- 
trines recommended  in  it  were  the  grand  and  distinguishing 
peculiarities  of  genuine  Christianity."  Of  the  importance 
of  such  a  declaration  we  may  judge  from  the  following  an- 
ecdote. "When  the  Force  of  Truth  fii-st  came  into  mv 
34  ^ 


^^8  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVIl. 

hands,"  said  an  excellent  and  learned  person,  "at  a  time 
when  I  did  not  at  all  concur  in  its  doctrines,  the  first  thing 
which  it  occurred  to  me  to  ask  was,  'What  has  been  the 
subsequent  history  of  this  man?  He  tells  us  of  one  great 
change:  he  ma}'  have  made  many  more  since.'  Receiving 
<bl  satisfactory  answer  to  this  inquiry,  I  was  prepared  to  pay 
a  more  serious  attention  to  his  arguments." 

His  great  judgment  also  appeared  in  his  so  studiously  con- 
templating the  different  bearings  of  his  sentiments,  and  the 
limitations  necessary  to  be  put  upon  what  he  advanced,  with 
a  view  to  preclude  objections,  that,  while  no  one  would  ever 
<iharge  him  with  temporizing,  he  never  drew  forth  an  avow- 
ed opponent,  except,  I  think,  in  one  instance,  which  neither 
Reserved  nor  obtained  the  least  public  attention. 

The  preceding  remarks  relate  to  the  powers  of  his  under- 
standing: those  which  follow  pertain  more  to  the  temper  of 
liis  heart. 

Mr.  Wilson  has  observed,  that  "love  of  the  world  was  not 
his  fault;"  that  "disinterestedness  was  a  feature  of  his  char- 
acter;" that  he  did  not  "talk  against  covetousness  and  the 
love  of  the  world,  while  the  bent  of  his  conversation  was 
worldly,  and  his  temper  selfish."  This  is  most  true:  but  it 
is  not  all  that  deserves  to  be  said  upon  the  subject.  I  must 
give  it  as  my  deliberate  judgment,  which  I  think  will  be 
sanctioned  by  the  suffrages  of  those  who  most  closely  ob- 
iserved  him,  that,  of  all  the  men  I  have  known,  he  manifest- 
=ed  the  most  unfeigned  and  practical  belief  of  those  numer- 
ous scriptures,  which  pronounce  riches  dangerous  to  this 
welfare  and  salvation  of  the  soul;  and  that,  in  consequence, 
acting  upon  his  own  favorite  maxim,  that  what  is  best  for 
the  soul  is  really  best  for  us,  he  ever  looked  upon  worldly 
possessions  with  a  jealous  e^^e,  for  his  family  as  well  as  for 
himself.  Particularly  he  deprecated  the  idea  of  clergymen 
aspiring  at  wealth — meaning  by  that  term  much  more  mod- 
derate  property  than  some  would  understand  by  it.  His 
isentence  at  the  beginning  of  his  religious  career  will  not 
be  forgotten:  "We  are  to  live  at  the  altar;  but  a  livings  a 
hai'e  decent  maintenance,  without  any  avaricious  or  ambi- 
tious views  of  advancing  ourselves  or  our  families,  or  han- 
kering after  indulgences,  should  content  us."*  He  acted  on 
this  principle  through  life.  Subsequently  we  have  heard 
'him  declare,  that  "if  a  man  have  faith  strong  enough,  and 

♦>Leltei-of  July  13,  177^. 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  599 

urgent  occasions  call  for  it,  he  may  perhaps  do  as  well  for 
his  family,  if  he  expends  what  he  has  to  spare  in  judicious 
charities,  as  if  he  lays  it  by;"  and  again  that,  "in  some  cases, 
he  should  think  it  right  to  make  a  point  of  disposing  in  char- 
ity of  at  least  as  much  as  was  laid  by — and  this,"  he  adds, 
•4  call  seed-coni.''^*  Yet  it  should  be  observed,  that  he  had 
a  great  objection,  where  it  could  be  avoided,  to  public  col- 
lections being  made  for  a  clergyman's  family  after  his  de- 
cease. The  necessity  for  this,  he  thought,  should  be  guard- 
ed against  by  all  fair  means.  Nor  should  it  be  supposed, 
that  he  in  any  way  reflected  upon  clergymen  who  were 
born  to  wealth,  or  on  whom  providence  otherwise  confer- 
red it,  if  only  they  made  a  proper  use  of  it.  Aspiring  after 
it  was  what  he  condemned. 

Agreeably  to  these  sentiments,  we  have  seen  him  expres- 
sing a  strong  disapprobation  of  ministers  encumbering  them 
selves  with  lucrative  academies,  and  losing  perhaps  the 
sacred  character  in  that  of  tutors.  He  had,  if  possible,  a, 
still  stronger  aversion  to  their  aiming  at  rich  marriages, 
A  marriage  with  a  rich  wife  is,  I  believe,  what  none  of  his 
sons  would  have  ventured  to  propose  to  him.  Few  things 
would  have  alarmed  him  more  for  their  safet}^;  or  more 
grieved  him,  as  a  dereliction  of  the  principles  with  which 
he  had  labored  to  inspire  them.  Often  have  we  heard  him 
descant  with  satisfaction  on  the  case,  I  think,  of  Mr.  Walker, 
of  Truro,  who  declined  a  connexion  with  a  lady,  in  all 
other  respects  suitable,  because  she  possessed  £10,000!  and 
often  mention  the  sarcastic  congratulation  offered  at  a  visi- 
tation, by  a  dignified  clergyman  to  an  evangelical  brother 
who  had   married  a   lady   of  fortune,  "Aye,  aye,  brother 

,  we  all  aim  at  the  same  object,  though  we  have  our 

different  ways  of  attaining  it!"  Hence,  when  many  years 
ago  two  young  ladies  of  ;«/ge  fortune  were  placed  under 
his  care,  it  was  one  of  his  counsels  to  them,  that  neither  of 
them  should  marry  a  clergyman:  "for,"  said  he,  "if  he  is 
not  a  good  one,  he  is  not  worthy  of  you;  and,  if  he  is  a  good 
one,  you  will  spoil  him." 

And  all  that  we  have  been  now  relating  was  held,  it 
should  be  observed,  and  persisted  in  by  one  who  had  felt 
more  than  most  men  the  inconveniences  arising  from  the 
want  of  money,  even  as  an  obstruction  to  his  great  and  good 
designs. 

•  Letter  of  March  15,  IgOJ. 


400  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVIL 

All  this  must  appear  sufficiently  extraordinary  to  those 
who  form  their  notions  from  what  is  current  not  only  in  the 
world,  but  in  the  visible  church.  To  ''worldly-wise  men" 
it  will  no  doubt  even  seem  extravagant.  But  so  did  our 
Lord's  doctrine  upon  the  self-same  subject:  "The  Pharisees 
also,  who  were  covetous,  heard  all  these  things;  and  they 
derided  him:"  they  smiffled  at  him,  in  scorn  and  derision. 
It  cannot  be  wondered  at,  if  those  to  whom  the  rule  would 
appear  extravagant,  should  esteem  the  practice  which  is 
Gonformabie  to  it  to  be  so:  and,  inverting  the  proposition, 
it  may  be  feared,  that  those  who  so  judge  of  the  practice^ 
wouhl  have  judged  in  like  manner  of  the  rule^  had  it  not 
proceeded  from  an  authority  to  which  they  are  accustomed 
to  defer. 

Let  it  not,  however,  be  supposed,  that  while  I  vindicate, 
as  well  as  record  my  father's  sentiments,  I  pretend  to  have 
risen  to  the  level  of  them  myself  To  describe,  and  evea 
to  approve,  is  one  thing;  to  follow,  passibiis  cequis^  is  another. 

But  it  was  not  only  under  the  form  of  the  love  of  money 
that  he  guarded  against  a  worldly  spirit:  he  was  equally 
jealous  of  it  in  every  shape.  The  reader  will  not  have 
forgotten  how  he  rejoiced  "with  trembling  at  a  very  slight 
degree  of  credit  obtained  by  one  of  his  sons  at  the  univer- 
sity. To  the  same  son  he  also  remarked,  that,  though  he 
did  not  tell  him  so  at  the  time,  it  had  been  one  object  in 
selecting  his  college  to  send  him  where  he  would  not  be 
likely  to  get  a  fellowship.  And,  though  he  gave  or  pro- 
cured for  all  his  sons  an  university  education,  yet  so  studi- 
ously did  he  exclude  every  other  view  than  that  of  their 
going  forth  at  once,  like  himself,  as  humble  parish  priests, 
that  I  believe  1  may  say,  they  entered  upon  life  almost 
without  having  conceived  the  idea  of  those  more  lucrative 
and  more  envied  openings  whifch  an  university  may  some- 
times present. 

It  may  not  be  improper  here  to  add,  that,  as  my  father 
wrote  only  for  usefulness,  and  neither  for  gain  nor  fame, 
he  always  published  his  works  at  as  low  a  price  as  he  could 
at  all  afford  them,  that  they  might  be  accessible  to  the 
humble  class  of  readers.  Repeatedly  indeed  this  price 
turned  out  to  be  lower  than  he  could  afford.  Once,  in  a 
letter,  he  remarks  concerning  his  Bible,  as  a  matter  of  cal- 
culation, "1  find  that  my  five  pound  book  would  make  fifty 

of 's  ten  shiUings  book:"  yet  the  book  in  question  was 

not  onft  of  the  dearest  specim&ns  we  have  seen.     Without, 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  401 

however,  wishing  to  reduce-  others  to  his  own  standard  in 
this  respect,  he  certainly  felt  a  degree  of  disgust  when  he 
saw  the  desire  of  money-getting  so  evidently  stamped  upon 
religious  pubUcations,  calculated  for  general  instruction,  as 
to  confine  their  utility  to  those  who  could  pay  somewhat 
extravagantly  for  it. 

In  a  man  acting  upon  such  principles,  much  liberality  in 
bis  dealings,  and  an  ample  charily  in  proportion  to  his  cir- 
cumstances, would  naturally  be  expected:  nor  would  the 
expectation  be  disappointed  by  the  fact.  Towards  servants, 
laborers,  and  the  poor,  he  always  acted  in  the  most  kind 
and  even  bountiful  manner.  He  expressed  his  approbation 
of  Mr.  Berridge's  advice,  who  said  to  country  clergymen, 
'^Keep  a  barrel  of  ale  in  your  house,  and  when  a  man 
comes  to  you  with  a  message,  or  on  other  business,  give  him 
some  refreshment,  that  his  ears  may  be  more  open  to  your 
religious  instructions."  It  was  always  likewise  his  maxim, 
that  we  ought  to  support  during  sickness,  or  when  worn 
down  with  age,  those  of  whose  services  we  had  had  the 
benefit  during  their  health  and  strength.  Hence  at  his 
death  he  bequeathed,  out  of  the  little  property  he  had  to 
leave,  an  annuity  of  j£l2  to  one  who  had  spent  above  thirty 
years  in  his  service;  though  she  had  eventually  married 
from  him. 

On  one  particular  mode  of  his  charities  (an  instance  of 
which  has  indeed  come  under  our  notice,)  we  may  again 
hear  the  lady,  to  whom  we  were  indebted  for  the  account 
of  his  Sunday  labors.  "One  n  >re  particular,"  she  says,  "I 
have  to  note,  which  always  gave  me  pleasure,  as  proving 
the  union  of  judgment  and  benevolence,  namely,  the  cases 
of ,  and ,  and  others.  Circumstances  not  allow- 
ing of  unassisted  pecuniary  relief^our  good  father  and 
mother  received  into  their  house,  while  others  contributed 
to  their  support,  those  who  would  otherwise  have  pined  in 
solitude  and  neglect:  an  example  I  should  like  to  see  imi- 
tated in  the  habitations  of  many  pious  persons,  as  a  means  of 
doing  more  extensive  good  than  many  expensive  institutions. 
And  it  can  scarcely  be  doubted,  that  the  prayers  of  those^ 
so  favored,  have  had  their  share  in  drawing  down  the  bless- 
ings which  have  descended  on  the  family." 

But,  indeed,  in  all  his  pecuniary  transactions,  while  he 
guarded  against  profusion,  there  was  a  certain  "largeness 
of  heart""*  about  him,  which  highly  adorned  bis  profes- 

•  1  Kings  iv,  29. 
*34 


402  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVIL 

sion.  What  is  that  betwixt  me  and  thee?*  was  a  sentence  fre- 
quently in  his  mouth,  wherever  small  matters  were  con- 
cerned. And  in  this  connexion  the  testimony  borne  soon 
after  his  decease,  by  the  farmer  from  whom  he  received  all 
his  income  as  rector  of  Aston,  may  be  quoted  as  of  much 
weight:  "Never,"  said  he,  '^was  there  any  thing  mean,  httle, 
or  selfish,  about  Mr.  Scott." 

In  all  respects  he  was  a  man  of  a  remarkably  open  tem- 
per: and,  though  this  might  occasionally  produce  him  some 
uneasiness,  he  always  thought  such  a  turn  of  mind,  accom- 
panied by  a  tolerable  share  of  prudence,  carried  a  person 
through  more  difhculties  than  it  created  him. 

Another  particular  to  which  I  would  a  httle  further  ad- 
vert is,  his  close  adherence  to  the  scripture;  his  constant 
recurrence  not  only  to  their  instructions,  for  the  determina- 
tion of  important  questions  of  truth  and  duty,  but  to  their 
example,  as  the  best  standard  even  upon  very  inferior 
points.  Perhaps  the  more  insignificant  the  instance  I  give, 
the  more  effectually  may  it  illustrate  what  I  state  concern- 
ing the  extent  to  which  this  practice  was  carried.  On  this 
ground  I  mention  the  following.  He  once  look  a  moment- 
ary prejudice  agamst  a  writers  speaking  of  himself  in  the 
plural  number,  rather  than  simply  tising  the  pronoun  I: 
and  I  was  somewhat  amused  to  find  him  immediately  trying 
his  sentiment  by  scriptural  usage.  "How,"  said  he,  "do  the 
inspired  writers  speak?"  Their  sanction  of  the  practice 
objected  to,  I  presume,  satisfied  his  mind;  as  no  more  was 
heard  of  the  objection;  nor  is  it,  probably,  remembered  by 
;kny  one  but  myself 

Not  only  his  general  benevolence,  but  his  catholic  spirit 
toward*  all  pious  Christians,  however  separated  from  him 
in  unessential  things,  !§Bserves  particularly  to  be  commem- 
orated. This  was  manifested  in  the  fervency  of  his  pray- 
ers for  them;  in  his  readiness,  wherever  he  could  with  pro- 
priety do  it,  to  second  their  efforts  to  do  good;  in  his  cordial 
joy  in  their  success,  and  sympathy  in  their  disappointments; 
and  in  the  habits  of  intimate  friendship,  and,  as  we  have 
seen,  of  confidential  correspondence,  in  which  he  Hved, 
with  some,  from  whom  he  differed  on  points  which  he  did 
Tiot  think  unimportant.  He  could  avow  his  sentiments,  and 
allow  them  to  avow  theirs,  where  they  disagreed,  and  yet 
could  love  them  as  brethren,  united  in  far  greater  things 

*  Gen.  xx'm,  15,  See  the  chapter  tbi*  ovigfaoDt\ 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  403 

than  those  which  divided  them.  Accordingly  the  following 
lines  were,  soon  after  his  death,  applied  to  him,  in  print,  by 
a  neighboring  Baptist  minister,  of  whom  he  had  not  scru- 
pled sometimes  to  complain,  as  making  injurious  inroads 
upon  his  flock: 

♦•To  sect  or  party  his  large  soul 

Disdaiii'd  to  be  confined; 
The  good  he  loved  of  every  name, 

Aud  prayed  for  all  mankind." 

And  here  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  a  few  words  concern- 
ing his  Calvinism.  May  i  not  be  bold  to  appeal  to  great 
numbers,  whether  they  must  not  admit  the  subject  of  these 
memoirs  to  have  been  a  very  different  character,  as  to  mor- 
als, temper,  the  practical  nature  of  his  views  of  Christianity, 
concern  for  the  salvation  of  all  mankind,  and  his  whole 
manner  of  addressing  men,  in  order  to  the  promotion  of 
their  salvation,  from  what  they  are  ready  to  suppose  a  de- 
cided Calvinist  must  be?  Where  will  they  find  greater  be- 
nevolence, greater  strictness,  and  greater  exertion,  than 
have  been  here  exhibited  to  them?  Will  they  admit  the  fact, 
but  contend  that  all  this  was  a  happy  inconsistency  with  the 
principles  which  my  father  had  embraced?  He  himself,  at 
least,  steadily  maintained  the  contrary,  and  athrmed  that 
his  principles  naturally  tended  to  n  much  higher  degree  of 
universal  goodness,  than  he  could  ever  give  himself  credit 
for  having  attained:  and  it  is  certain,  that  all  his  more  dis- 
tinguished brethren,  who  shared  with  him  the  reproach  of 
Calvinism,  such  as  Newton,  Henry  Venn,  Robinson,  Cecil, 
Wiln«r,  Richardson,  and  many  others — concurred  in  this 
conviction  of  the  practical  tendency  of  their  doctrines, — 
which  they  all  likewise  exemplified,  in  their  own  lives  and 
conversation,  in  a  inanner  not  likely  to  be  soon  surpassed. — 
To  what  end  then  do  I  direct  these  observations?  to  the 
promotion  of  Calvinism  properly  so  called?  No:  but  to 
evince  that  Calvinists  are  not  necessarily  so  far  removed 
from  all  that  is  Christian,  as  some  persons  seem  ready  to 
suppose  they  must  be. 

For  myself,  I  confess  that  1  am  little  disposed  eagerly  to 
"  contend  for  any  peculiarities  of  Calvin's  creed:  but  of  one 
thii^  I  feel  perfectly  sure;  that  the  sentiments  of  antipathy, 
involving  apparently  a  mixture  of  aversion  and  contempt, 
which  are  sometimes  expressed  for  persons  holding  Calvin- 
ifitic  sentiments,  can  only  reflect  disgrace  on  those  who 
cherish  thena. — Many  speak  and  write  as  if  the  admission 


404  CHARACTER  [Citap.  XVIL 

of  such  doctrines  were  the  result  of  predilection,  and  arose 
from  some  malignity  towards  the  great  mass  of  mankind,  in- 
herent in  the  breast.  Those  who  embrace  them  stand,  by 
the  very  fact  of  having  received  them,  (hke  the  primitive 
Christians,)  odio  humani  generis  convicti.  But  nothing  can 
be  a  greater  violation  of  all  justice  than  thus  to  treat  men, 
who  shew  the  greatest  benevolence  and  practical  charity 
'towards  their  fellow  creatures;  who,  many  of  them,  (Uke 
the  subject  of  this  work,)  long  stood  out  against  the  admis- 
sion of  the  obnoxious  tenets  in  question,  and  never  admit- 
ted them  till  compelled  to  do  so,  contrary  to  all  their  ap- 
parent interests,  by  submission  to  what  they  at  least  con- 
ceived to  be  the  paramount  authority  of  God's  word;  and 
who  themselves  have  often  felt  more  keenly,  it  is  to  be  ap- 
prehended, than  those  who  most  bitterly  censure  them  ever 
did,  the  painful  reflections  which  some  of  their  principles 
appear  calculated  to  excite — But  the  fact  is,  many  of  the 
best  and  greatest  men  of  our  own  church,  and  of  other  es- 
tablishments, through  successive  ages,  have  avowed  the  doc- 
trines which  are  now  made  the  ground  of  so  much  reproach; 
and  could  many  illustrious  worthies,  who  in  former  times 
tilled  the  highest  dignities  of  our  church  with  the  greatest 
honor,  now  return  upon  earth,  they  must,  according  to  cer- 
tain modern  regulations,  (hitherto  indeed  but  partially 
adopted,)  be  rejected  even  from  the  humblest  curacies. 

But  I  forbear — and,!*  quitting  the  general  subject  of  my 
father's  character,  proceed  to  mention  some  of  the  habits  of 
his  life. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  some  persons  to  know  his  usual 
mode  of  spendmg  his  time,  when  exposed  to  no  peculiar  in- 
terruptions. 

Unlike  most  men  who  have  accomplished  great  things  ia 
life,  he  was  never,  till  quite  his  latter  years,  an  early  riser. 
This,  indeed,  might  be  sufficiently  accounted  for,  by  the  dis- 
turbed nights  which  he  often  passed,  owing  to  his  asthmatic 
complaint.  He  usually  rose  about  seven,  and  retired  to  rest 
about  eleven  o'clock.  But  during  some  late  years  he  rose 
frequently  between  five  and  six.  At  these  times  he  often 
spent  three  hours  alone  in  his  study  before  breakfast.  His 
seasons  of  private  devotion  were  always,  I  believe,  iidn.ie- 
diately  after  rising,  and  again  from  eight  to  nine  o'clock  in 
the  evening.  There  were  times  also  in  which  he  had  pe- 
riods of  retirement  in  the  middle  of  the  day:  and  occasionally 
he  observed  days  of  fasting  and  more  special  devotion. 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  405 

After  breakfast  followed  his  family  exposition  and  wor- 
ship, which  often  occupied  three  quarters  of  an  hour,  or 
even  still  more  time.  He  next,  while  he  had  missionaries  or 
other  pupils  under  his  care,  applied  himself  to  their  instruc- 
tion: and  then  pursued  his  own  studies  till  near  the  hour  of 
dinner.  His  time  for  exercise  and  for  making  his  pastoral  vis- 
its was  g^enerally  the  afternoon.  For  some  years  his  chier 
exercise  was  the  cultivation  of  his  garden;  but  latterly,  from 
the  necessity  of  a  recumbent  posture,  much  of  the  time  which 
he  had  been  used  to  give  to  this  employment  was  passed 
upon  his  bed. — After  tea  he  was  again  occupied  in  his  stu- 
dy till  the  hour  for  family  worship  arrived:  after  which  a 
light  supper,  followed  by  a  little  conversation,  closed  the 
day. 

He  was,  as  Mr.  Wilson  has  observed,  "always  employed, 
but  never  in  a  hurry."  His  method  of  "gleaning,"  as  he 
termed  it,  by  always  having  a  book  at  hand  for  spare 
portions  of  time,  he  himself  has  described  and  recom- 
mended in  a  letter  which  has  been  inserted.  Buthe gleaned 
by  conversation  with  all  who  came  in  his  way,  upon  such 
subjects  as  they  understood,  as  well  as  from  books.  He 
thought  it  of  much  advantage  to  a  clergyman  to  understand 
common  affairs,  particularly  those  connected  with  the  em- 
ployments of  his  people.  "When  they  saw  that  he  under- 
stood things  belonging  to  their  profession,  it  would  make 
them,"  he  said,  "give  him  credit  foMnore  competency  to 
instruct  them  in  what  pertained  to  his  own." — Indeed  his 
active  mind  employed  itself  vigorously  upon  all  subjects 
which  came  before  it;  and  particularly  upon  the  passing 
events  of  the  world,  as  the}'  affected  the  interests  of  the 
Christian  church,  or  of  his  country,  and  the  consequent  du- 
ties of  himself,  and  his  people. 

Till  his  spirits  had  been  completely  worn  down  by  labors 
and  infirmities,  he  possessed  great  cheerfulness  and  vivac- 
ity; which  especially  displayed  themselves  in  times  of  sick- 
ness— He  was  a  man  of  much  conversation.  AUliis  studies 
and  pursuits  were  talked  over  with  his  family.  He  was  in- 
deed always  and  every  where  3<5<»xt<x<>5,  "apt  to  teach:"* 
we  might  even  be  ready  to  term  him,  as  St.  Paul  was 
termed,  ff7ri^ju.oXoyog^'\  if  that  word  may  be  taken,  as  our 
version  appears  to  take  it,  for  one  who  scatters  his  words, 
Tike  seed,  all  around  him.     In  confirmation  of  this  the  scenes 

•  1  Tim.  ill,  2.    2  Tim.  ii,  24.  t  Actaxvii,  18* 


40a  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVII. 

of  the  Margate  packets  may  be  recalled  to  mind.  I  will 
mention  also  another  incident  which  recalled,  though  it  may 
appear  trivial,  will  illustrate  my  position,  and  his  character. 
— In  one  of  ray  journeys  to  Aston,  I  took  with  me,  as  nurse 
maid,  a  young  woman  of  but  slender  capacity,  though  I  hope 
of  good  principles;  audit  amused  and  interested  me  to  learn 
that  this  poor  girl,  when  charged  with  the  care  of  a  young 
child,  could  tind  no  way  of  passing  her  time  so  agreeably, 
as  in  standing  or  walking  about  near  my  father,  while  he 
worked  in  his  garden.  He  so  explained  to  her  his  various 
operations,  and  the  intended  result  of  them,  with  appropri- 
ate observations,  that  her  attention  was  quite  engaged.  And 
by  means  resembling  this  it  was,  that  his  domestics  gradu- 
ally acquired  a  degree  of  information,  which  made  them 
appear  enlightened  persons  in  comparison  with  what  is  gen- 
erally found  in  that  rank  of  life.  And  hence  too  it  was,  as 
well  as  for  the  great  spiritual  benefit  which  most  of  them 
derived  from  ihis  nstructions,  that,  without  contracting  any 
disrespectful  familiarity,  they  became  attached  to  him  in  a 
very  uncommon  degree. 

In  this  connexion  I  may  mention  what  has  left  a  pleasing 
and  affecting  impression  upon  my  memory  from  my  early 
days.  His  returns  from  visiting  his  late  flock  at  Raven- 
stone,  when  he  lived  at  Olney,  were  always  interesting  oc- 
casions, while  he  talked  over  with  my  mother  all  that  he 
had  observed  in  their  state.  At  these  times,  I  suppose 
from  sympathy  with  his  hopes  and  fears,  his  joys  and  sor- 
rows respecting  them,  it  was  very  gratifying  to  me  to  stand 
by,  a  silent  listener  to  the  conversation. 

In  like  manner  the  pecuHar  piety,  cheerfulness,  and  affec- 
tion which  marked  the  discourse  that  took  place  on  a  Sun- 
day evening,  (notwithstanding  the  very  discouraging  cir- 
cumj^tances  against  which  my  father  had  to  contend,)  early 
made  a  strong  impression  upon  my  mind  of  the  Imppiness  of 
true  religion. 

Generally  I  may  say,  that  my  father  was  very  strict  about 
the  observance  of  the  sabbath  in  bis  family.  All  domestic 
work,  that  could  be  anticipated,  was  done  the  evening  be- 
fore: and  cooking  on  the  Sunday  was  avoided,  that  the 
whole  iamily,  if  not  otherwise  prevented,  might  attend  pub- 
lic worship.  Yet,  as  may  be  collected  from  the  fact  just 
related,  his  piety  was  cheerful  as  well  as  strict, 

*'Improv'd  and  softenM  by  the  day, 
AU  things  another  aspect  wore.'* 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  407 

In  one  respect  a  deficiency  may  have  been  felt  in  these 
memoirs — my  father  never,  I  believe,  at  least,  never  since  a 
very  earl}  period,  wrote  any  private  papers,  relative  to  what 
passed  in  his  own  mind.  Fious  persons  have  differed  in  judg- 
ment upon  this  practice.  His  judgment  was  not  agtunst  itibut  it 
was  not  his  habit.  Nor  has  he  left  any  writings  beyond  what 
are  now  printed,  which  can  be  communicated  to  the  public — 
unless  it  be  additional  letters  in  the  hands  of  his  friends. — At 
the  same  time  that  I  make  this  remark,  1  may  be  permitted  to 
observe,  that  he  much  deprecated  the  publication  of  such 
letters,  unless  (what  he  apprehended  might  not  be  attaina- 
ble,) they  could  be  previously  submitted  to  persons  in  whose 
judgment  he  could  confide.  He  thought  that  the  memory  of 
many  good  men  had  been  injured  by  such  pubhcations.* — I 
confess  it  is  with  some  trepidation, as  to  what  might  have  been 
his  own  judgment  upon  the  subject,  that  I  now  lay  so  much 
of  his  private  correspondence  before  the  puMic:  but  all,  I 
persuade  myself,  will  feel  that  I  have  given  them  much 
that  is  truly  valuable:  and,  under  the  s?anction  and  author- 
ity which  death  has  added  to  his  character,  he  may  now 
speak  5ome  things  publicly,  which  perhaps  propriety  or  ex- 
pediency required  that  he  should  before  say  only  in  private 
to  his  friends.  If  I  have  in  any  important  instance  exceeded 
that  moderate  licence  which  this  consideration  would  allow, 
there  is  nothing  for  which  1  should  feel  more  unfeigned 
regret. 


I  gladly  avail  myself  of  the  permission  to  annex,  to  this 
review  of  my  honored  father's  character  and  manner  of  life, 
the  testimony  of  two  friends,  the  competency  of  whose 
judgment  none  will  call  in  question,  and  who  will  be  free 
from  that  suspicion  of  undue  partiality  which  must  necessa- 
rily attach  to  myself. 

The  first  of  the  following  letters  was  addressed  to  me 
when  I  announced  the  event  which  had  just  taken  place  at 
Aston  Sandford. 

"Golden  Square,  April  iO,  1821.  My  dear  sir.  The 
mournful  event,  which  you  were  pleased  to  communicate  to 
me,  excited  less  surprise  than  concern,  as  Mr.  Webster  had 
prepared  me  to  expect  an  unfavorable  termination  of  your 

•  See  iiis  Practical  Observations  on  Deut  xxxiv 


408  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVII. 

pious  and  excellent  father's  illness.  Although  his  departure 
has  been  delayed  to  a  good  old  age,  and  he'^was  cut  down  as 
a  shock  of  corn  fully  ripe;  yet  the  loss  of  him  must  be  pain- 
fully felt  by  all  who  had  the  advantage  of  knowing  him,  and 
who  knew  how  to  esteem  and  love  him  for  his  work's  sake. 
The  church  is  deprived  of  an  able  and  useful  minister,  who 
has  long  been  a  burning  and  a  shining  light  in  the  midst  of  her: 
his  people  have  lost  a  faithful  and  laborious  pastor,  whose 
zeal,  diligence,  and  serious  concern  for  their  eternal  inter- 
ests, will  never  be  surpassed:  his  friends  have  lost  a  wise, 
upright,  disinterested,  and  affectionate  counsellor,  on  whose 
judgment  and  integrity  they  could  always  rely:  aiid  his 
family  have  lost  all  that  can  be  comprised  in  a  great,  good, 
kind,  and  tender  relative.  His  works  will  long  live  to 
praise  him  here,  and,  through  the  divine  blessing,  may  be 
instrumental  in  adding  to  his  felicity,  and  increasing  the 
glory  with  which  the  Redeemer  has  already  crowned  his 
aged  and  laborious  servant. 

"You,  my  dear  sir,  can  better  exemplify,  than  I  can  ex- 
press, the  duties  of  fiiith,  and  patience,  and  meek  submission, 
-which  are  required  by  this  afflictive  dispensation  of  the 
divine  providence.  May  it  please  God  to  communicate  that 
support  and  consolation,  which  will  enable  you  to  comfort 
those  around  you!  Above  all,  may  you  have  grace  to  per- 
severe in  the  path  by  which  your  now  blessed  father  has 
ascended  into  the  mansions  of  perfection  and  happiness,  and 
abundantly  supply  the  loss  which  the  world  has  sustained,  by 
receiving  a  double  portion  of  his  spirit! 

"The  friends  of  my  youth,  and  of  my  mature  age,  are 
now  few  in  number;  and  every  year  deprives  me  of  some 
to  whom  I  was  tenderly  united.  Their  departure  warns  me 
that  my  own  is  advancing  rapidly  upon  me.  Pray  for  me, 
my  dear  sir,  that  /  may  obtain  mercy  of  the  Lord  in  that  day. 
— I  am,  my  dear  sir,  with  great  respect  and  regard,  truly 
and  affectionately  yours, 

John  Pearson," 
<-<'The  Rev.  John  Scott^  Aston  Sandford.''^ 

The  other  excellent  and  distinguished  friend  of  my  father, 
when  I  informed  him  of  the  work  in  which  I  was  engaged, 
most  kindly  proposed,  of  his  own  accord,  "publicly  to  de- 
clare the  unfeigned  respect  he  felt  for  him,"  which,  he 
said,  he  should  have  "real  pleasure  in  doing:"  and,  when 
the  occasion  called  for  it,  he  favored  me  with  the  following 
highly  gratifying  letter: 


1S21.]  AND  HABITS.  409 

"Marden  Park,  IGth  April,  1822. — My  dear  sir,  It  was 
with  no  little  pleasure  that  1  heard  that  you  were  about  to 
publish  an  account  of  the  life  ofyour  late  excellent  father,  to- 
gether with  many  of  his  letters.  The  life  of  a  minister  of 
the  gospel  is  not  indeed  likely  to  abound  in  those  incidents 
which  might  render  it  interesting  to  ordinary  readers;  but 
to  those  who  read  for  moral  improvement,  or  still  more, 
with  a  view  to  Christian  edification,  the  Ufe  of  your  iate 
father  cannot  but  be  eminently  attractive.  The  labors  of 
his  pen,  blessed  be  God,  have  been  so  widely  circulate4  as 
entirely  to  supersede  the  necessity  of  any  other  testimony 
to  the  superiority  of  his  intellectual  powers,  or  to  the  sound- 
ness and  extent  of  his  religious  wisdom.  To  the  still  higher 
praise  of  having  exhibited  and  illus-trated  in  his  life  and 
conversation  the  religious  principles  which  he  professed, 
you  would  yourself  bear  abundant  testimony.  But  the 
eulogium  of  a  son  may  be  not  unreasonably  suspected  of 
partiality:  from  that  suspicion  my  favorable  testimony  will 
be  free.  It  is  not  much  however  that  I  am  able  to  state: 
not  at  least  so  much  as  the  general  impression  on  my  nund 
of  your  father's  character  had  led  me  to  anticipate.  The 
uniform  discharge  of  the  most  important  duties,  the  daily 
exercise  of  the  Christian  tempers,  though  they  justly  secure 
respect  and  engage  afl'ection,  supply,  even  to  a  biographer, 
little  that  is  substantive  or  specific:  yet  for  the  gratiiicatioii 
of  my  own  feelings,  if  not  for  the  illustration,  still  less  for 
the  accrediting,  of  his  character,  permit  me  to  state  the  de- 
cisive judgment  of  his  intellectual  and  moral  quahties,  which 
an  acquaintance  of  five  and  thirty  years'  duration  had  en- 
abled me  to  form. 

"It  was  in  the  winter  of  1785-6  that  the  late  Mr.  New- 
ton informed  me  that  the  Uev.  Mr.  Scott,  a  clergyman  of  a 
very  superior  understanding  and  of  eminent  piety,  more  pe- 
cuharly  remarkable  for  his  thorough  acquaintance  with  the 
holy  scriptures,  was  about  to  settle  in  London,  having  been 
appointed  to  the  chaplaincy  of  the  Lock  Hospital. 

"This  was  a  period  of  my  life  when  it  was  pecuharly 
important  to  me  habitually  to  attend  the  ministrations  of  a 
sound  and  faithful  pastor;  and  I  willingly  assented  to  Mr. 
Newton's  earnest  recommendations  of  Mr.  Scott.  1  soon 
found  that  he  fully  equalled  the  strongest  expectations  that 
1  had  formed  of  him,  and  from  that  time  for  many  years  I 
attended  him  regularly,  for  the  most  part  accompanied  by 
my  dear  friends,^  both,  alas!  now  gone  to  a  better  world, 
35 


41f  CHARACTER  [Chap.  XVII. 

— the  Hon.  Edward  James  Eliot  and  Mr.  Henry  Thornton. 
We  used  to  hear  him  at  the  Lock  in  the  morning;  Mr. 
Thornton  and  I  often  gladly  following  him  for  the  after- 
noon service  into  the  city,  where  he  had  the  lectureship  of 
Bread  Street  church.  AH  objections  arising  from  an  unfa- 
vorable manner  were  at  once  overruled  by  the  strong  sense, 
the  extensive  acquaintance  with  scripture,  the  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  vehement  and  pow- 
erful appeals  to  the  conscience,  with  which  all  his  sermons 
abounded  in  a  greater  degree  than  those  of  any  otiiermin--* 
ister  I  ever  attended.  Indeed  the  substantial  solidity  of  his, 
discourses  made  those  of  ordinary  clergymen,  though  good 
and  able  men,  appear  comparatively  somewhat  superficial 
and  defective  in  matter.  His  zeal,  together  with  his  labors 
and  indefatigable  energy,  could  not  but  be  manifest  to  all 
who  had  ever  so  little  knowledge  of  his  life  and  character. 
But,  through  the  medium  of  a  friend  who  resided  some  time 
under  his  roof,  I  had  an  opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted 
with  his  conduct,  temper,  and  manners,  in  family  life. 
These  I  can  truly  declare  were  such  as  to  indicate  his  con- 
stant reference  both  in  his  conduct  and  temper,  to  the  very 
highest  moral  standard,  and  a  mind  singularly  watchful 
against  what  he  conceived  to  be  his  own  besetting  infirmi- 
ties. In  particular  I  well  remember  it  was  stated  to  me, 
that,  if  in  the  course  of  the  day  he  had  been  betrayed  into 
what  he  deemed  an  improper  degree  of  warmth,  with  a 
measure  of  humility  rarely  to  be  found  in  any  man,  much 
less  in  one  who  could  not  but  be  conscious  of  his  own  supe- 
rior powers,  he  would  mention  the  circumstance,  and  im- 
plore forgiveness  of  his  infirmity  in  the  evening  devotions 
of  the  family. 

"Were  I  required  to  specity  the  particular  Christian 
principles  which  shone  most  conspicuously  in  his  character, 
I  should  mention  his  simplicity  of  intention,  his  dismterest- 
edness,  and  his  generous  contempt  of  this  world's  wealth  in 
comparison  with  those  heavenly  treasures  on  which  his 
heart  was  supremely  set.  He  conceived  it  to  be  peculiarly 
the  duty  of  a  Christian  minister  to  be  a  pattern  of  disinter- 
estedness, and  to  render  it  clear  that  he  was  governed  by 
higher  motives  than  those  of  worldly  gain  or  advancement. 
— It  may  be  an  illustration  of  this  part  of  his  character, 
that,  in  opening  his  heart  to  a  friend  on  the  marriage  of  one 
of  his  children,  he  expressed  his  gratification  that  the  lady 
had  no  fortune. — Never  iadeed  did  I  know  any  one  in  whom 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  411 

the  grand  governing  principles  of  a  true  Christian  appeared 
to  rule  more  powerfully  and  habitually. 

"It  was  with  no  little  regret  that  a  change  of  residence, 
which  took  place  on  my  marriage,  rendered  me  a  less  con- 
stant attendant  on  Mr.  Scott's  ministry.  But  Mrs.  W.  and  I 
always  congratulated  ourselves  when  an  opportunity  of  hear- 
ing him  occurred.  When  your  father  quitted  the  neighbor- 
hood of  London,  I  was  one  of  the  many  who  deeply  regret- 
ted his  departure,  though  my  concern  was  lessened  by  the 
hope  that  a  country  residence  might  prove  serviceable  to 
his  health,  and  be  the  means  of  prolonging  a  life  of  almost 
unequalled  usefulness.  I  need  not  assure  you  that,  the  es- 
teem and  attachment!  felt  for  him  experiencing  no  diminu- 
tion, I  continued  to  take  a  deep  interest  in  his  well  being; 
and  though  I  heard  with  concern  that  one,  for  whom  I  felt 
so  sincere  a  friendship,  should  suffer  such  a  long  continu- 
ance of  severe  bodily  pain,  yet  I  could  not  but  feel  that  it 
was  to  the  honor  of  this  aged  servant  of  God,  that,  as  when 
in  the  possession  of  his  bodily  strength  he  had  been  enabled 
to  exhibit  a  model  of  what  a  Christian  minister  should  be, 
80  that  he  had  done  it  no  less  in  his  decUning  years,  by  the 
patience  and  humility  with  which  he  bore  his  bodily  suffer- 
ings, and  the  diligence  with  which  he  never  failed  to  im- 
prove every  remaining  bodily  and  mental  faculty  for  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  edification  of  his  fellow-creatures. 

"Large  indeed  was  the  harvest  he  was  allowed  to  gather 
in;  many  are  the  works  which  have  followed  him;  and  rich, 
doubtless,  will.Jje  his  remuneration,  on  that  day  when  he 
shall  hear  the  blessed  address  which  I  could  for  very,  very 
few^  anticipate  with  equal  confidence.  Well  done  good  and 
faithful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord! — I  re- 
main, with  real  esteem  and  regard,  my  dear  sir,  your  faithful 
servant,  W.  Wilberforce." 

^' The  Rev.  John  Scott:' 

One  more  topic  remains  to  be  adverted  to  in  this  chapter, 
to  which  reference  has  been  already  made:  it  is,  my  father's 
sentiments  concerning  education. 

On  this  subject  he  wilL  himself,  have  disappointed  the 
hopes  of  many  readers,  by  the  closing  sentence  of  his  own 
narrative;  and  1  am  sensible  that  it  will  not  be  in  my  power 
to  reJieve  the  disappointment.  At  the  same  time  I  would 
remind  such  persons  how  many  valuable  hints  they  may 
collect  from  various  letters  which  have  been  laid  before 
them;  and  hkewise  how  great  weight  there  is  in  the  sen- 


4ie  SENTIMENTS  [Chap.  XVIF. 

tence  referred  to,  when  interpreted  as  he  would  understand 
it.  "The  grand  secret"  of  his  success,  he  there  says,  ''ap- 
pears to  have  been  this,  that  I  always  sought,  for  my  chil- 
dren as  well  as  for  myself,  l\  tiie  first  place,  the  kingdom 
of  God  and  his  righteousness,''''  In  his  view,  this  would  ex- 
tend not  only  to  the  instruction  directly  given,  and  the 
prayers  offered  on  behalf  of  his  family,  but  to  his  whole 
conduct  respecting  them;  to  the  spirit  and  behavior  habitu- 
ally exhibited  before  them;  to  the  value  practically  and  ev- 
idently set  upon  eternal,  in  preference  to  temporal,  things; 
and  very  particularly  to  the  disposal  of  them  in  life — the 
places  of  instruction  to  which  they  should  be  sent,  the  fam- 
ilies which  they  should  visit,  the  connexions  which  they 
should. form,  and  the  openings  which  should  be  embraced 
or  rejected  for  them. 

"Many  of  us,"  says  Dr.  Paley,  "are  brought  up  with  this 
world  set  before  us,  and  nothing  else.  Whatever  promotes 
this  world's  prosperity  is  praised;  whatever  hurts  and  ob- 
structs and  prejudices  this  world's  prosperity  is  blamed:  and 
there  all  praise  and  censure  end.  We  see  mankind  about 
us  in  motion  and  action;  but  all  these  motions  and  actions 
directed  to  worldly  objects.  We  hear  their  conversation^ 
but  it  is  all  the  same  way.  And  this  is  what  we  see  and  hear 
from  the  first.  The  views  which  are  continually  placed 
before  our  eyes  regard  this  life  alone  and  its  interests.  Can 
it  then  be  wondered  at  that  an  early  worldly-mindedness  is 
bred  in  our  hearts,  s®  strong  as  to  shut  out  heavenly-mind- 
edness  entirely?"  All  this  strikingly  illustrates,  bij  contrast, 
what  my  father  meant  in  the  above-quoted  sentence.  How 
far  the  censure  which  it  conveys  bears  upon  the  practice  of 
many  families  in  which  religious  instruction  is  not  neglected, 
those  concerned  must  judge  for  themselves.  "It  is  seriously 
to  be  apprehended,"  my  father  observes  in  one  of  his  last 
publications  relating  to  the  state  of  the  times,  "that  remiss- 
ness in  family  religion,  relaxation  of  domestic  authority,  and 
the  adoption  of  worldly  maxims  in  the  education  and  disposal 
of  children,  constitute  a  considerable  part  of  the  sins  of  the  . 
church  in  the  present  day,  as  distinguished  from  the  sins  of 
the  irreligious  part  of  the  nation." — Such  was  his  judgment. 
What  v/as  his  practice,  the  same  distinguished  writer  lately 
cited  may  be  said  to  have  described  when  he  proceeds: 
"That  religion  therefore  may  not  be  quite  excluded  and 
overborne,  may  not  quite  sink  under  these  powerful  causes, 
every  support  ought  to  be  given  to  it,  which  can  be  given 


1821.]  ON  EDUCATION.  413 

by  education,  by  instruction,  and,  above  all,  by  tbe  example 
of  those,  to  whom  young  persons  look  up,  acting  with  a 
view  to  a  future  life  themselves."  Or  rather  his  conduct  is 
more  ade^juately  described  by  the  nervous  language  of  the 
inspired  apostle:  "We  look  not  at  the  things  which  are 
seen,  but  at  the  things  which  are  not  seen;  for  the  things 
which  are  seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things  which  are  not 
seen  are  eternal."* 

The  deficiencies,  of  which  my  father  speaks  in  the  same 
closing  sentence  of  his  narrative,  were  mainly  owing,  I  con- 
ceive, to  the  want  of  time  for  more  particular  instruction 
and  superintendence,  which  was  inseparable  from  the  con- 
stant pressure  of  engagements  under  which  he  lived. 

But,  though  I  avow  my  despair  of  satisfying  the  expect- 
ations of  some  friends  on  the  subject  of  the  present  sec- 
tion, I  have  one  document  to  lay  before  them,  which  I  trust 
they  will  accept  with  indulgence  and  read  with  interest.  It 
is  a  memorial  of  a  part  of  what  passed  at  Aston,  at  our 
family  meeting  there,  before  mentioned,!  in  the  yeai^l818, 
as  preserved  in  a  letter  to  an  absent  brother.  It  may  be 
remembered,  that  one  object  then  proposed  was,  that  our 
revered  head  might  deliver  to  us,  perhaps  for  the  last  time, 
"such  hints,  especially  on  the  management  of  our  families, 
as  should  occur  to  him,  and  as  might  tend,  under  the  bles- 
sing of  God,  to  make  us  in  some  degree  such  blessings  to 
our  children,  as,  we  trusted,  he  had  been  to  us."  Of  these 
hints  some  will  be  found  to  correspond  to  each  part  of  the 
sentence  which  introduced  the  present  observations. — Mj 
memorandum  is  as  follows: 

"My  father  then  took  up  the  subject  which  had  been  pro- 
posed to  him,  and  the  text  named  as  an  introduction  to  it, 
Genesis  xviii,  9,  expressing  his  sense  of  its  vast  importance, 
and  that  particularly  as  applied  to  us,  in  our  situations,  and 
with  our  families.  I  can  give  you  but  brief  hints  of  what 
he  said,  but  they  may  recal  to  your  recollection  his  strain 
of  thinking  and  speaking  on  such  points. 

"He  first  used  the  most  humble  expressions  concerning 
liis  sense  of  the  insufficiency  and  imperfection  of  what  he 
had  done  himself:  that  people  asked  him  what  were  the 
rules,  and  schemes,  and  plans,  which  he  had  adopted  and 
pursued;  but  that  really  he  had  been  always  too  much  in- 
volved in  his  many  engagements,  to  pursue  any  very  regu- 

♦  2  Cor.  iv,  18.  t  See  above,  p.  315. 

*35 


414  SENTIMENTS  IChap.  XVIL 

lar  scheme  or  system  in  the  education  of  his  children:  and 
he  ascribed  the  success,  which  he  hoped  had  attended 
him,  to  God's  blessing  on  steady  upright  aims  and  intentions, 
rather  than  to  the  wisdom  of  his  plans  and  the  competency 
of  his  rules. 

"1.  One  thing  that  he  could  look  back  upon  with  satis- 
faction, and  which  he  would  earnestly  inculcate,  was,  that 
he  had  ever  decidedly  sought  first  ihe  kingdom  of  God  and 
his  righteousness  for  us,  as  well  as  lor  himself;  and  this  not 
merely  in  his  prayers,  but  in  his  instructions,  and  in  dispos- 
ing of  us  in  life.  He  had  been,  he  observed,  most  of  his 
time  poor;  and  in  London  he  could  have  found  many  oppor- 
tunities of  getting  his  children  off  his  hands^  and  even  of 
putting  them  forward  in  the  world;  but  he  determined  not 
to»  avail  himself  of  them,  but  rather  to  keep  his  children 
under  his  own  roof  as  long  as  he  could.  For  bis  sons  his 
heart  had  been  set  upon  the  ministry, — perhaps  too  fondly; 
though,  as  we  knew,  it  had  always  been  his  maxim,  that, 
while  he  would  rather  see  us  faithful  ministers  of  Christ 
than  princes,  yet  he  would  rather  we  were  shoe-blacks 
than  clergymen  in  office  but  not  in  heart:  and  he  had  been 
unwilUng  to  relinquish  the  hope  that  we  should  answer  his 
desires,  for  the  sake  of  any  more  lucrative  prospect  that 
was  presented. 

"2.  He  would  enjoin.  Whatever  else  you  teach  or  omit 
to  teach  your  children,  fail  not  to  teach  them  subjection; 
and  that  to  the  mother,  as  well  as  to  the  father.  This,  he 
said,  is  as  essential  to  their  own  welfare,  temporal  and 
eternal,  as  to  that  of  the  family,  the  church,  and  the  state. 
Establishing  authority,  (which  is  perfectly  consistent  with- 
kindness  and  affection,)  so  that,  from  childhood,  they  shall 
not  think  of  deliberately  opposing  a  parent's  will, — of  hav- 
ing or  doing  what  he  disapproves:  this  is  the  greatest  safe- 
guard that  can  be  places]  about  young  persons.  Subjection 
to  authority  is  God's  ordinance — essential,  in  addition  to  aU 
other  considerations,  to  the  beUef.  and  practice  of  religion. 
If  it  were  true,  that  there  were  more  pious  women  than 
men,  he  would  ascribe  it  very  much  to  this  circumstance, 
that  they  are  more  habituated  to  restraint  and  subjection. 

"Here  I  took  the  liberty  of  bearing,  to  the  juvenile  part 
of  the  company,  my  testimony  to  the  great  value  and  ad- 
vantage of  the  discipline  under  which,  particularly  in  this 
respect,  we  were  brought  up;  while  I  see,  among  pupils, 
^ftud  in  many  religious  f^uuUeSj  the  prevalenge,  aad  the  sad 


1821.]  ON  EDUCATION".  415 

consequences  of  an  opposite  practice.  There  was  no  want 
of  affection,  on  the  one  part,  or  of  confidence,  on  the  other, 
in  my  fathers  family:  but  there  was  an  awe  of  parental  au- 
thority: any  thing,  to  which  he  could  not  freely  consent,  was 
out  of  the  question  with  us:  at  least  it  was  so  to  a  consider- 
able degree.  This  is  a  preservative  from  a  thousand  sins 
and  follies  and  miseries,  to  which  those  3'oung  persons  who 
have  an  unsubdued  will  of  their  own  are  exposed.  1  hear- 
tily wish  we  may  all,  by  God's  blessing,  succeed  in  estab- 
lishing the  same  system  in  our  families. 

"3.  He  enforced,  as  of  great  importance,  the  forming  of 
habits  of  application.  The  idea  of  teaching  every  thmg  as 
play  or  entertainment,  could  it  be  realized,  would  sacritice, 
he  observed,  the  great  moral  benetits  of  education.  The 
difference  between  work  and  play  should  be  felt;  and.  the 
proportion  of  the  former  to  the  latter  gradually  increased. 
The  habit  of  application  is  of  vastly  greater  importance 
than  any  particular  branch  of  learning  which  is  to  be  ac- 
quired by  it. 

"1  will  here  subjoin  the  remark  of  a  wise  man,  Mr,  Rich- 
ardson of  York,  who  said,  'It  seemed  to  him,  that  the  wide 
difference  existing  among  famiUes  brought  up  under  the 
same  religious  instruction,  was,  in  a  very  main  degree,  to  be 
traced  to  some  being  trained  to  industrious  habits^  and  some 
not.' 

"4.  To  such  of  us  as  have  pupils  from  wealthy  ftimihes, 
it  might,  my  father  proceeded,  be  particularly  important  to 
point  out,  what  he  had  always  wished  to  keep  in  our  view, 
when  we  were  young,  that  our  children  were  not  to  consid- 
er themselves  as  on  a  footing  with  all,  with  whom  they 
might  associate.  Many  things  might  be  proper  for  their 
companions,  in  the  way  of  dress,  expence,  &<c.  which  would 
be  highly  improper  for  them^  on  account  of  their  different 
situation  and  prospects  in  life.  This  he  observed,  was  ever 
to  be  kept  in  view  by  the  families  of  ministers  especially: 
and  children  should  therefore  be  habituated  to  the  consid- 
eration from   the  first. 

''Connected  with  this,  the  subject  of  accepting  invitations 
for  our  children,  to  pay  visits  to  friends,  deserved  much 
attention,  and  sometimes  occasioned  much  difiicuity.  Such 
calls  should  be  complied  with  spanngly,  and  with  much  axre. 
Even  where  the  families  to  which  they  might  be  invited 
were  unexceptionable  in  all  other  points  than  that  of  supe- 
rior statioa  or  fortune,  yet  the  different  style  of  living  would 


418  SENTIMENTS  [Chaf.  XVIL 

often  be  of  itself  a  sufficient  objection,  where  the  youthful 
mind  was  concerned.  Wanting  to  be  genteel  frequently 
proved  a  great  snare  to  families  circumstanced  as  our's 
were. 

"5.  On  the  subject  of  teaching  children  religion.,  he  had 
in  some  degree  altered  his  opinions.  He  had  done  too  lit- 
tle, he  was  convinced,  in  the  way  of  teaching  us  catechisms, 
prayers,  and  portions  of  scripture  by  heart;  not  only  from 
the  want  of  time,  but  from  a  fear,  beyond  what  was  war- 
ranted, of  producing  formality:  and  he  apprehended  that 
there  still  prevailed  an  error  on  this  head,  among  many 
persons,  agreeing  with  us  in  our  general  sentiments.  Ob- 
servation of  facts  had  produced  the  change  in  his  judg- 
ment. He  had  lived  to  see,  to  how  good  account  a  pretty 
large  measure  of  such  instruction  might  be  turned;  particu- 
larly storing  the  mind  with  scriptures  for  future  use.  He 
would  have  the  memory,  while  tenacious,  as  in  children, 
preoccupied  with  such  matter;  without,  however,  rendering 
it  burdensome. 

"He  had  not  attempted  a  great  deal  in  the  way  of  talking 
directly  to  children,  and  drawing  them  forth  to  talk,  upon 
religious  subjects;  but  much,  he  trusted,  by  family  worship, 
and  the  constant  reading  and  expounding  of  the  scriptures: 
much  also,  he  hoped,  by  the  conversation  kept  up  in  his 
family,  and  by  the  spirit  of  supreme  regard  to  religion, 
which  he  had  endeavored  to  maintain.  This  he  pressed 
upon  our  particular  attention  with  reference  to  our  chil- 
dren. 

"To  the  effect  of  his  general  conversation  I  gave  my 
testimony,  by  observing,  that  the  knowledge,  which  I  had 
found  turn  lo  most  account  in  life,  appeared  to  have  been 
gathered  up,  gradually  and  imperceptibly,  from  what  thus 
passed  in  his  family. 

*'He  urged  the  improvement  of  passing  events,  of  occur- 
rences relating  to  our  own  conduct  and  that  of  others,  as 
-the  occasions  of  religious  remark,  illustrative  of  scriptural 
truths — teaching  young   persons    to   take  a  religious  and 
Christian  view  of  whatever  took  place. 

"If  surrounded  by  a  young  family,  he  said,  his  expositions 
would  be  somewhat  varied  from  their  present  form:  they 
would  be  less  full  and  minute,  and,  as  far  as  he  found  it 
practicable,  more  suited  to  arrest  and  impress  the  youthful 
mind. — He  would  also  make  a  point  of  having  evening  prayer 
ilt  such  an  hour,  that  the  younger  branches  of  the  family 


1821.]  ON  EDUCATION.  41 7 

(from  seven  or  eight  years  of  age,)  might  be  present,  as 
well  as  in  the  morning. — He  much  recommended  extem- 
porary prayers  in  the  family,  glancing  at  existing  circum- 
stances, in  preference  to  any  fixed  forms;  especially  among 
young  persons, 

"f).  He  pressed  the  importance  of  gaining  the  affections 
of  our  children;  drawing  them  to  choose  our  company,  to 
enter  into  our  conversation,  and  to  make  us  their  confidents. 

"7.  He  expressed  his  hope,  that  there  might  be  little 
need  to  say  to  us.  Let  brotherly  love  continue;  but,  said  he, 
let  every  thing  be  done  to  train  up  your  children  also  to 
union  and  cordiality:  let  them  be  guarded,  and  taught 
themselves  to  guard,  against  whatever  might  violate  it. 
There  will  be  different  turns  of  mind:  there  will  be  occa- 
sions tending  to  excite  jealousy,  envy,  and  grudging:  but 
let  the  demon  of  discord  be  watched  against,  as  the  dead- 
liest foe  to  a  family.  Respectability,  happiness,  usefulness, 
all  depend  on  its  exclusion.  A  threefold  cord  is  not  easily 
broken;;  but  a  divided  house  cometh  to  desolation. 

"My  father  concluded  with  prayer  for  all  present,  and 
for  all  those  belonging  to  us  who  were  absent;  for  us  and 
our  children  after  us,  and  our  children's  children,  to  future 
generations,  if  there  should  be  such;  that  religion  might  not 
decline,  and  become  extinct  among  us,  but  that  all  might 
prove  (like  Abraham,  who  had  furnished  our  text,)  blessed 
ourselves,  and  blessings  to  others 

"After  the  prayer,  I  took  his  opinion  on  the  subject  of 
introducing  young  persons  to  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
supper;  which  1  was  the  more  desirous  to  do,  from  knowing 
his  sentiment,  that  it  is  an  ordinance  Tor  the  edification  of 
believers,  not  for  the  conversion  of  sinners.  I  observed, 
that  I  trusted  we  had  seen  good  effects  result,  in  many  in- 
stances, fi'om  encouraging  young  persons  to  come,  who  ap- 
peared hopeful  and  promising;  who  shewed  feeling,  and  an 
apparent  desire  of  religious  improvement;  though  we  could 
not  arrive  at  a  decisive  judgment  concerning  their  piety. 
He  fully  acquiesced  in  this,  and  expressed  his  approbation 
of  inviting  the  attendance  of  such  persons,  with  proper  ex- 
planations, and  when  it  meets  their  own  desire.  He  thought 
it  often  proved  a  decided  event  with  them,  and  the  means 
of  fixing  them. — The  distinction  was  marked  between  such 
an  approach  to  the  Lord's  table,  and  persons  coming  mere- 
ly because  they  have  attained  a  certain  age,  and  have  been 
confirmed:  as  likewise  between  coming  in  order  to  establish 


41«  SENTIMENTS  [Chap.    XVII. 

a  satisfaction  with  what  they  are^  and  using  it  as  a  means 
of  being  made  what  they  should  fee." 

A  striking  amplitication  of  some  parts  of  the   preceding 
paper  may  be  found  in  a  note  of  my  father's  on  a  passage  in 
the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  where  Demas,  who  "loved  this  pres- 
ent world,"  is  introduced  with  the  epithet  gentlemanlike  at- 
tached to  his  name.     After  some  excellent  remarks  on  the 
effects  arising  from  the  affectation  of  gentility  in  persons  in 
trade,  he  thus  proceeds:  "But  none  are  in  this  respect  so 
much  exposed  as  ministers,  and  their  families,  when,  having 
no  private  fortune,  they  are  situated  among  the  affluent  and 
genteel:  and,  by  yielding  to  the  temptation,  they  are  often 
incapacitated    from   paying  their   debts   with   punctuality; 
they  are  induced  to  degrade  tneir  office  by  stooping  to  un- 
suitable methods  of  extricating  themselves  out  of  difficulties, 
from  which  strict  frugality  would  have  preserved  them,  and 
by  laying  themselves  under  obligations  to  such  men  as  are 
capable  of  abusing  this  purchased  superiority;  and,  above 
all,  they  are  generally  led  to  place  their  children  in  situa- 
tions and  connexions  highly  unfavorable  to  the  interests  of 
their  souls,  in  order  to  procure  them  a  genteel  provision. 
If  we  form  our  judgment  on  this  subject  from  the  holy  scrip- 
ture, we  shall  not  think  of  finding   the    true  ministers  of 
Christ  among  the  higher  classes  in  the  community,  in  mat- 
ters of  external  appearance  or  indulgence.     That  informa- 
tion and  learning,  which  many  of  them  have  the  opportun- 
ity of  acquiring,  may  render  them  acceptable  company  to 
the  affluent,  especially  to  such  as  love  them  for  their  work's 
sake;  and  even  the  exercise  of  Christian  tempers  will  im- 
prove the  urbanity  acquired  by  a  liberal  education,  where 
faithfulness  is  not  concerned.     But  if  a  minister  thinks,  that 
the  attention  of  the  great  or  noble  requires  him  to  copy 
their  expensive  style  of  living,  he  grievously  mistakes  the 
matter.     For  this  will  generally  forfeit  the  opinion  before 
entertained  of  his  good  sense  and  regard  to  propriety:  and 
his  official   declarations   concerning  the  vanity  of  earthly 
things,  and  the  Christian's  indifference  to  them,  will  be  sus- 
pected of  insincerity,  while  it  is  observed  that  he  conforms 
to  the  world,  as  far  or  even  further  than  his  circumstances 
will  admit:  and  thus  respect  will  often  be  changed  into  dis- 
gust.    Nay  indeed  the   superior  orders  in   society    do  not 
choose  to  be  too  closely  copied,  in  those  things  which  they 
deem  their  exclusive    privileges;  especially  by    one  who 
(they  must  think,)  secretly  depends  on  them  to  defray  the 


1821.]  ON  EDUCATION.  419 

expense  of  the  intrusive  competition.  Thd  consistent  min- 
ister of  Christ  will  certainly  desire  to  avoid  every  thing  mean 
and  sordid,  and  to  retrench  in  every  other  way  rather  than 
exhibit  the  appearance  of  penury:  but,  provided  he  and  his 
family  can  maintain  a  decent  simplicity,  and  the  credit  of 
punctuality  in  his  payments,  he  will  not  think  of  aspiring 
any  higher.  If,  in  order  to  do  this,  he  be  compelled  to  ex- 
ercise considerable  self-denial,  he  will  think  little  of  it, 
while  he  looks  more  to  Jesus  and  his  apostles  than  to  the 
few  of  a  superior  rank  who  profess  the  gospel:  and,  could 
he  afford  something  genteel  and  fashionable,  he  would  deem 
it  more  desirable  to  devote  a  larger  portion  to  pious  and 
charitable  uses,  than  to  squander  it  in  vain  affectation." 

In  addition  to  the  observations  here  detailed.,  the  reader 
may  be  referred  for  a  further  explanation  of  my  father's 
views  on  education  to  the  twenty-first  of  his  Essays,  which 
treats  of  the  relative  duties. 

On  the  subject  of  "establishing  authority,"  (which  was  to 
be  accomplished  early,)  he  used  to  observe  that  it  gener- 
ally cost  him  a  sharp  contest,  sometimes  more  than  one;  but 
that,  when  it  was  once  settled  who  was  master,  the  parent 
and  not  the  child,  the  path  was  ever  after  comparativeij 
smooth  and  easy. 

On  correction,  he  was  decided  as  to  its  propriety  and 
necessity,  as  the  appointment  of  God.  At  the  same  time  he 
thought  it  need  by  no  means  be  frequent,  if  it  were  proper- 
ly administered  He  would  not  have  it  applied  for  small 
faults;  for  what  resulted  from  childish  levity  and  inconsid- 
eration;  but  only  for  what  was  wilful,  rebellious,  or  immoral. 
"A  child,"  he  observed,  "was  to  be  punished,  not  for 
being  a  cfiild,  but  for  being  a  wicked  child."  Of  course  he 
taught  that  chastisement  was  to  be  applied  coolly  and  with 
deliberation,  to  fulfil  a  duty  painful  to  our  feelings,  not  for 
their  gratification. 

It  was  a  rule  with  him,  that,  from  the  time  children  be- 
came capable  of  making  their  wants  known  in  any  other 
way,  they  were  to  obtain  nothing  by  crying  for  it,  or  by  any 
other  misconduct.  The  contrary  practice,  he  said,  was 
bribing  them  to  behave  ill. 

He  much  lamented  to  see  parents  so  often  inverting  the 
proper  course  to  be  pursued,  leaving  their  children  almost 
without  restraint  when  young,  and  then  attempting  to  im- 
pose too  severe  restrictions  upon  them  when  grown  up. 


420  HIS  WORKS.  [Chat.  XVIU. 

Each  error  was  highly  pernicious;   the  combination  of  the 
two,  of  most  ruinous  consequence. 

A  lady  who  was  for  a  considerable  time  resident  in  his 
house,  and  who  has  very  successfully  brought  up  her  family 
by  rules  principally  derived  from  him,  mentions  in  a  letter 
two  circumstances  which  particularly  struck  her  in  his  man- 
agement: one  was  his  "never  resenting  misconduct  in  any 
way  when  the  contest  was  over.  1  used  to  admire,'*  she 
says,  ''his  being  so  soon  kind  again  to  the  offender.  This  I 
judge  to  be  important,  though  it  may  seem  trivial."  The 
other  was,  "his  plan  of  letting  his  authority  go  by  impercep- 
tible degrees,  as  his  children  grew  up.  In  this,"  she  re- 
marks, "he  excelled,  I  am  ready  to  say,  even  his  manage- 
ment in  childhood:  and  the  observation  of  many  unhappy 
cases,  arising  from  a  contrary  course,  has  convmced  me  of 
its  great  importance.  He  would  have  been  a  wise  father, 
even  had  he  not  been  a  religious  one;  just  views  were  so 
obvious  to  his  wise  mind.  I  think  the  dissatisfaction,  which 
you  tell  me  he  expresses  in  the  close  of  his  narrative,  arose 
from  his  not  having  had  great  opportunity  of  comparing  his 
plan  with  those  of  others,  and  oil' observing  how  miserably 
many  children  have  been  brought  up.  There  is  however 
a  great  improvement,  at  least  in  my  circle.  I  take  the  op- 
portunity of  speaking  of  him  in  every  company  into  which 
I  go,  when  there  is  a  young  mother  present." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

HIS    WORKS HIS    THEOLOGY GOJS'CLUSION. 

"The  characteristic  excellency  of  his  writings,"  Mr.  Wilsoa 
says,  "is  a  calm,  argumentative,  determined  tone  of  scriptu- 
ral truth;  a  clear  separation  of  one  set  of  principles  from 
another;  a  detection  of  plausible  errors;  an  exhibition,  in 
short,  of  a  sound,  comprehensive,  adequate  view  of  Chris- 
tianity; such  as  goes  to  form  the  really  solid  divine.  His 
motto  may  be  conceived  to  have  been,  Knozving  that  I  am  set 
for  the  defence  of  the  gospeV 

1.  On  my  father's  tirst  work,  the  Force  of  Truth,  and  on 
his  principal  work,  the  Commentary  on  the  Scriptures,  Mr. 
Wilson  has  spoken  with  sufficient  copiousness  in  what  has 
been  already  insertecj  from  his  sermons. 


CjHAr.  XVIIL]  HIS  WORKS.  421 

I  mny  be  allowed  however  to  remark  it,  as  shewing  a 
very  different  state  ol"  feeling  upon  such  subjects  from  that 
which  now  exists,  that  a  narrative  so  striking  in  itself,  as  the 
Force  of  Truth  exhibits,  and  one  so  strongly  tending  to  sup- 
port what,  amid  unceasing  obloquy  and  opposition,  are  con- 
tended for  as  the  great  doctrines  of  the  reformation  and  of 
the  holy  scriptures,  should  for  a  long  time  have  attracted 
so  little  attention.  Ten  years,  it  has  been  seen,  passed  be- 
fore a  thousand  copies  were  sold.  Yet,  several  years  be- 
fore that  period  had  elapsed,  it  had  been  translated  into  a 
foreign  language  and  published  on  the  continent. 

I  subjoin  a  well  known  instance  of  the  effect  of  the 
work  on  a  character  which  has  much  interested  the  pub- 
lic mind.  ''About  this  time  Mr.  Pigott,  the  curate  of  St. 
Mary's,  Nottingham,  hearing  what  was  the  bent  of  his  (Hen- 
ry Kirke  White's,)  religious  opinions,"  namely,  'inclining  to- 
wards Deism,'  '-sent  him,  by  a  friend,  Scott's  Force  of  Truth, 
and  requested  him  to  peruse  it  attentively;  which  he  prom- 
ised to  do.  Having  looked  at  the  book,  he  told  the  person 
who  brought  it  to  him,  that  he  could  soon  write  an  answer 
to  it;  but  about  a  fortnight  afterwards,  when  this  friend  in- 
quired how  far  he  had  proceeded  in  his  answer  to  Mr.  Scott, 
Henry's  reply  was  in  a  very  different  tone  and  temper.  He 
said,  that  to  answer  that  book  was  out  of  his  power,  and  out 
of  any  man's,  for  it  was  founded  upon  eternal  truth;  that  it 
had  convinced  him  of  his  error;  and  that  so  thoroughly  was 
he  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  importance  of  his  Maker's 
favor,  that  he  would  willingly  give  up  all  acquisitions  of 
knowledge,  and  all  hopes  of  fame,  and  live  in  a  wilderness, 
unknown,  till  death,  so  he  could  insure  an  inheritance  in 
heaven. — A  new  pursuit  thus  opened  to  him,  and  he  en- 
gaged in  it  with  his  wonted  ardor."* 

To  what  Mr.  Wilson  has  said  concerning  the  Commen- 
tary, I  would  annex  the  opinion  expressed  by  the  late 
Rev.  Andrew  Fuller — "I  believe  it  exhibits  more  of  tha 
mind  of  the  Spirit  in  the  scriptures,  than  any  other  work  of 
the  kind  extant:"  and  the  following  testimony  of  the  author  of 
the  ''latrOiiuction  to  the  Critical  Study  and  Knowledge  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures."  Having  quoted  Mr.  Wilson's  account  of 
the  work,  Mr.  Horn  adds: — "To  the  preceding  just  char- 
acter of  this  elaborate  Commentary,  the  writer  of  these 
pages  (who  does  not  view  all  topics  precisely  in  the  sam^ 

•  Southey's  Life  and  Remains  of  H.  }^.  White. 
3G 


422  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap.  XVIII. 

point  of  view  with  its  late  learned  author,)  deems  it  an  act  of 
bare  justice  to  state,  that  he  has  never  consulted  it  in  vain 
on  difficult  passages  of  the  scriptures.  While  occupied  in 
considering  the  various  objections  of  modern  infidels,  he, 
for  his  own  satisfaction,  thought  out  every  answer,  (if  he  may 
be  allowed  the  expression,)  for  himself,  referring  only  to 
commentaries  in  questions  of  more  than  ordinary  difficulty: 
and  in  every  instance, — especially  on  the  Pentateuch, — he 
found  in  Mr.  Scott'^s  Commentary^  brief,  but  solid  refutations 
of  alleged  contradictions:,  which  he  could  fnd  in  no  other  sim- 
ilar work  extant  in  the  English  language.''^ 

The  only  observation  which  I  shall  myself  make,  relates 
to  the  leading  principle  of  interpretation  adopted  in  the 
work,  which  appears  to  be  of  this  kind:  that  every  passage 
of  scripture  has  its  real,  literal,  and  distinct  meaning,  which 
it  is  the  first  duty  of  a  commentator,  whether  from  the  pul- 
pit or  the  press,  to  trace  out  and  explain;  whatever  appli- 
cation he  may  think  fit  subsequently  to  make  of  it:  and  that, 
speaking  of  the  scriptures  generally,  the  spiritual  meaning 
is  no  other  than  this  j^eal  meaning,  the  actual  intention  of 
the  passage,  with  its  fair  illegitimate  application  to  our- 
selves. The  author  looked,  therefore,  with  a  very 
jealous  eye  upoa  the  whole  scheme  of  accommoda- 
tion so  much  in  favor  with  many  persons,  which  takes 
a  passage  often  witkout  even  a  reference  to  its  connexion 
and  real  purport,  and  applies  it  to  somewhat  to  which  it 
has  no  actual  relation,  and  perhaps  does  not  even  bear  any 
analogy. — A  few  extracts  from  my  father's  writings  will 
best  illustrate  his  views. 

In  the  preface  to  his  Commentary  he  briefly  notices  the 
subject,  in  explaining  the  plan  upon  which  his  own  work 
proceeds,  and  the  reasons  that  led  to  its  adoption.  6ut 
the  fullest  explanation  of  his  sentiments  is  to  be  found  in 
two  papers  in  his  collected  "Works."  The  first  was  pub- 
lished in  the  Theological  Miscellany,  for  1786,  in  reply  to 
a  query  concerning  the  passage,  Eccles.  ix,  13 — 15,  which 
d;escribes  "a  certain  poor  man,  who,  by  his  wisdom,  deliv- 
ered his  city,*"  but  was  "no  more  remembered"  by  the  citi-i 
zens.  Some  persons  have  had  the  fancy  of  applying  this  to 
our  redemption  b)'  Christ,  and  our  returns  for  the  benefit. 
On  this  he  says:  "In  explaining  the  word  of  God,  we  should 
remember  that  there  is  in  every  portion  one  precise  mean- 
ing, previously  to  our  employing  our  ingenuity  upon  it, 
which  it  is  our  business,  with  reverent  attention  to  investi- 


Chap.  XVIIL]  HIS  WORKS.  42^ 

gate.  To  discover  that  meaning,  we  should  soberly  and 
carefully  examine  the  context,  and  consider  the  portion  in 
question  in  the  relation  in  which  it  stands." 

Then,  having  pointed  out  the  useful  practical  lessons  sug- 
gested by  the  plain  meaning  of  the  story,  he  proceeds:  "I 
would  gladly  know  by  what  authority  any  man,  overlooking 
these  plain  and  useful  instructions,  by  the  help  of  a  warm 
imagination,  sets  himself  to  find  gospel  mysteries  in  this 
passage?. ...  It  would  puzzle  the  most  ingenious  of  these 
fanciful  expositors  fairly  to  accommodate  the  circumstances 
of  the  story  to  the  work  of  redemption.  Two  purposes 
indeed,  such  as  they  are,  may  be  answered  by  such  inter- 
pretation: 1.  Loose  professors  are  encouraged  in  their  vain 
confidence,  by  hearing  that  none  of  the  redeemed  are  more 

mindful  of,  or  thankful  to  their  Savior  than  themselves 

2.  It  is  a  powerful  engine  in  the  hands  of  vain-glorious  men, 
by  which  to  catch  the  attention,  and  excite  the  admiration 
of  injudicious  multitudes,  who  ignorantly  admire  the  sagac- 
ity of  the  man  that  finds  deep  mysteries,  where  their  more 
sober  pastors  perceived  nothing  but  unrelishing  practical 
instruction I  have  heard  many  sensible  and  pious  per- 
sons lament  this  sort  of  explication  of  scripture,  as  an  evil 
of  the  first  magnitude:  and  I  am  more  and  more  convinced 
it  is  so.  At  this  rate  you  may  prove  any  doctrine  from  any 
text: . . .  every  thing  is  reduced  to  uncertainty,  as  if  the 
scripture  had  no  determinate  meaning,  till  one  was  arbitra- 
rily imposed  by  the  imagination  of  man: ....  the  most  impor- 
tant doctrines  of  the  g-ospel  seem  to  lose  their  beauty  and 
glory,  along  with  their  simplicity,  in  the  midst  of  such  use- 
less encumbrance:  and  the  most  conclusive  arguments  lose 
their  effect,  and  become  suspected,  by  the  company 
which  they  keep:  and,  whilst  the  sophistical  proof  is  detect- 
ed, the  opposer  is  emboldened  to  treat  the  rest  as  equally 
capable  of  refutation. .  . . 

'4Iowever  men  may  admire  the  sagacity  of  these  expog^ 
iters,  it  certainly  shews  a  very  lamentable  state  of  the  or- 
gans of  sight,  vviien  a  man  can  see  nothing  obvious,  useful, 
real,  and  capable  of  being  pointed  out  to  others  for  their 
benefit;  but,  blind  to  these  things,  sees  every  thing  through 
a  different  medium  than  others,  and  in  such  a  manner  as 
can  furnish  only  amusement  instead  of  information.  It  is 
very  improperly  called  spiritually  explaining  the  scripture. 
The  spiritual  meaning,  is  the  meaning  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
which  is  generally  simple,  and  obvious  to  the  humble  in- 


424  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap.  XVIIf . 

quirer.  Opposite  to  this  is  the  fanciful  meaning-,  which 
alwaj^s  appears  forced  and  unnatural  to  sober  niinds;  diverse 
and  opposite  to  men  of  opposite  parties  and  lively  imagina- 
tions; and  only  excites  admiration  by  being-  surprising  and 
unexpected. . .  .  Thus  the  parable  of  the  good  Samaritan  is 
evidently  intended  to  explain  and  enforce  the  great  com- 
mandment of  loving  our  neighbor  as  ourselves,  by  shewing, 
in  a  lively  example,  how  every  personal  and  party  consid- 
eration is  to  be  overlooked;  and  safety,  ease,  interest  and 
indulgence  hazarded  or  renounced,  to  rescue  a  fellow  crea- 
ture, though  an  enemy  or  stranger,  in  the  hour  of  distress. 
Christ  indeed,  having  in  his  life  and  death  perfectly  fuitilled 
this  lavy,  and  far  exceeded  all  that  can  possibly  be  required 
of  any  other  person,  because  of  his  peculiar  character,  cir- 
cumstances, and  suretyship  engagements,  hath  inexpressibly 
outdone^  the  good  Samaritan.  But  even  this  is  accommoda- 
tion; and  the  practical  inference.  Go  thou  and  do  likewise^ 
demands  our  peculiar  attention.  But  now,  if  ingenuity  and 
imagination  are  employed  to  bend  every  circumstance  of 
this  parable  to  the  situation  of  fallen  man,  and  the  love  of 
Christ;  and  this  is  given  as  the  primary  or  only  meaning, 
whilst  the  practical  instruction  is  kept  back;  the  reader  or 
hearer  may  be  amused  or  disgusted,  as  he  favors  or  dishkes 
the  doctrines  of  grace;  but,  whatever  ediiication  he  may 
receive,  he  has  not  that  which  our  Lord  principally  intend- 
ed by  the  parable.*' 

The  other  document  which  corivcy  •  M  paiitiments  on  the 
subject  before  us,  is  a  letter  to  a  high!y  esteemed  brother 
clergyman,  who  consulted  him  concerning  the  publication 
of  a  sermon  on  the  signs  and  duties  of  the  tinies,  in  the 
year  1 799,  from  the  text,  Nahum  ii,  1.    He  writes  as  follows: 

"If  1  had  not  considered  you  in  a  very  different  light, 
from  that  in  which  I  do  some  preachers,  in  whose  sermons 
imagination  and  accommodation  predominate,  I  should  have 
evaded  the  question,  or  declined  giving  an  answer.  .  .  . 
Your  sermons  always  have  a  good  tendency;  as  such,  I  must 
give  my  approbation,  leaving  every  man  to  his  own  method 
of  attaining  his  object;  though  I  may  think  that  method  is 

not  the  best  of  which  he  is  capable When  you  take  a 

plain  text,  full  of  matter,  and,  from  the  real  meaning  of 
the  text,  raise  doctrines,  draw  conclusions,  explain,  illus- 
trate, and  apply  the  subject,  there  is  great  weight  in  your 
manner  of  preaching;  which  the  fertility  of  your  invention 
and  Uveliness  of  imagination,  kept  in  due  bounds,  render 


Chap.  XVIIL]  HIS  WORK?.  425 

more  interesting  to  the  mmiy^  without  giving'  just  ground  of 
umbrage  to  the  few.  But,  it  appears  to  me  and  to  others, 
that  you  frequently  choose  texts  suited  to  give  scope  to  the 
fancy, — which  is  constituted  the  interpreter,  instead  of  the 
judgment;  and  that  you  thus  discover  allusions,  and  deduce 
doctrines,  and  instructions,  true  and  good  in  themselves,  but 
by  no  means  contained  in  the  text,  nor,  indeed,  easily  made 
out  in  the  way  of  accommodation.  In  this  case,  your  own 
vigor  is  principally  exerted  in  the  exercise  of  the  imagina- 
tion: and,  while  many  hearers  are  surprised,  amused,  and 
delighted,  their  understandings,  consciences,  and  hearts  are 
not  addressed  or  affected,  by  any  means  in  so  powerful  a 
manner  as  by  a  plainer  subject. 

"What  St.  Peter  says  of  prophecy,  that  it  is  not  of  pri- 
vate interpretation,  is  true  of  every  part  of  scripture:  the 
Holy  Spirit  had,  in  every  part,  one  grand  meaning,  and 
conveys  one  leading  instruction;  though  others  may,  by 
fair  inference,  subordinateiy  be  deduced.  This  is  the  real 
spiritual  meaning,  which  we  should  first  of  all  endeavor  to 
discover,  as  the  foundation  of  all  our  reasonings  and  per- 
suasions. We  should  open,  allege,  argue,  enforce,  and  ap- 
ply, from  this  inind  oj-  the  Spirit  in  scripture;  nor  is  any 
passage  tit  for  a  text,  properly  speaking,  which  does  not 
admit  of  such  an  improvement  of  it,  in  its  real  meaning. 
But  that,  which  you  seem  to  call  the  'spiritual  meaning,*'  is 
frequently  no  more  than  a  new  meaning  put  upon  it  by  a 
lively  fancy. — Typical  subjects,  indeed,  have  a  spiritual 
meaning,  and  in  another  sense,  under  the  literal  mean- 
ing; being  intended  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  shadow  forth 
spiritual  blessings  under  external  signs;  and  some  prophetical 
visions  are  enigmatical,  and  the  spiritual  meaning  is  the  un- 
riddling of  the  enigma. — Parables,  and  such  parts  of  scrip- 
ture as  the  Canticles,  are  of  the  same  nature.  But,  in  all^ 
the  judgment  should  be  the  expositor,  not  the  fancy;  and  we 
should  inquire  what  the  Holy  Spirit  meant,  not  what  we 
can  make  of  it.  But  there  are  many  scriptures  that  have 
no  other  meaning,  than  the  literal;  and  which  are  to  be- 
improved,  not  by  linding  out  a  new  meaning  and.  calhng  it 
spiritual,  but  by  trying  what  useful  instruction  we  can  de- 
duce from  the  plain  sense  of  the  passage."  He  then  ap* 
plies  these  principles  to  the  particular  passage  in  question. 
But  for  that  application,  the  reader  must  be  referred  to  the 
paper  itself. — He  concludes,  "My  dear  sir,  I  am  so  deeply 
convinced,  that  this  way  of  accommodation  is  capable  of 
*36 


426  '  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap.  XVIH, 

very  dangerous  abuses,  and  has  been  so  abused  to  very  bad 
purposes,  by  those,  who  make  divisions  and  deceive  souls, 
that  1  grieve  when  any  person  of  real  piety  and  respecta- 
bility gives  countenance  to  it;  and  I  have  so  high  an  opinion 
of  your  integrity,  benevolence,  desire  of  glorifying  God, 
and  of  doing  good,  and  of  your  talents  likewise,  if  properly 
exerted,  that  I  have  long  wished  to  discuss  the  subject  with 
you." 

II.  Next  to  the  "Force  of  Truth,"  one  of  his  earliest 
publications  was  the  "Discourse  on  Repentance:"  and  this 
may  be  considered  as  the  lirst  of  a  series  of  Theological 
Treatises,  including  "The  Warrant  and  Nature  of  Faith," 
the  "Treatise  on  Growth  in  Grace,"  the  "Sermon  on  Elec- 
tion and  Final  Perseverance,"  the  "Essays  on  the  most  Im- 
portant Subjects  in  Religion:"  to  which  we  maj^  add  the 
volume  of  "Sermons  on  Select  Subjects,"  the  "Four  Ser- 
mons," and  the  "Notes  on  the  Pilgrim's  Progress." 

The  first  of  these  works  is  a  most  serious,  affectionate, 
and  impressive  address  on  a  subject  which  appeared  to  the 
author,  at  the  period  of  the  publication,  to  be  peculiarly 
neglected,  and  which,  he  thought,  was  seldom  so  much  in- 
sisted upon  as  it  ought  to  be.  The  instances,  in  which  the 
work  is  known  to  have  been  productive  of  the  happiest 
effects,  are  numerous.  Though  a  plain,  practical  composi- 
tion, it  exhibits  much  of  that  which  distinguished  the  writer's 
views  of  Christianity.  He  insists  strongly  on  the  immuta- 
ble obligation  of  the  divine  law,  its  equity  as  well  as  purity, 
and  the  inexcusablene*s  of  transgression,  notwithstanding  the 
fallen  state  of  human  nature:  marks  the  connexion  of  re- 
pentance with  faith,  with  forgiveness  of  sin,  and  with  every 
part  of  religion — exposing  the  unsoundness  of  that  religion 
in  which  it  does  not  bear  even  a  prominent  place;  and  dis- 
tinguishes between  faith  and  personal  assurance  in  the  same 
manner  as  he  always  continued  to  do. — Of  the  strictness  of 
his  practical  system,  the  reader  may  judge  by  what  he  has 
said,  in  speaking  of  the  nature  of  repentance,  on  the  sub- , 
jects  of  restitution;  dealing  in  smuggled  or  contraband 
goods;  and  the  case  of  bankrupts. 

The  occasion  of  the  "Warrant  and  Nature  of  Faith"  has 
already  been  in  some  measure  explained.  In  that  work  the 
author  may  be  said  to  attempt  to  hold  the  balance  between 
certain  excellent  men  at  home — Marshall,  Hervey,  Ro- 
maine — in  whose  sentiments  concerning  faith  and  assurance^ 
and  some  other  points,  he  could  uot  concur:  and  the  New 


Ckap.  XVIIL]  his  works.  427 

England  divines — particularly  Edwards  and  Bellamy — whom 
he  held  in  high  estimation,  but  who,  he  thought,  had  raised 
a  prejudice  against  their  own  writings  by  pushing  some 
things  too  far,  and  thus  ''throwing  impediments  in  the  sin- 
ner's path,  when  endeavoring  with  trembling  steps  to  come 
to  the  gracious  Savior,"  "and  condemning  many  as  self- 
deceivers,  whom  God  would  own  as  real,  though  weak  be- 
lievers." 

The  work  consists,  of  two  parts:  one  of  which  maintains, 
that  the  word  of  God,  independently  of  any  personal  quali- 
fications, is  the  sinner's  only  and  sufficient  u-arrant^  or  au- 
thority for  exercising  faith  in  Christ;  and  assigns  reasons  for 
insisting  on  this  position:  the  other  asserts  the  holy  nature 
of  true  faith  in  all  cases,  and  that  it  is  the  effect  of  regener- 
ation; and  alleges  distinct  reasons  for  insisting  upon  these 
positions  as  well  as  the  other.  In  speaking  of  the  nature  of 
faith  the  author  is  careful  to  impress  the  sentiment,  that  it 
always  connects  with  a  humble  earnest  application  to  the 
divine  Redeemer  for  salvation;  which  he  does  in  order  to 
distinguish  it  from  a  mere  inert  reliance^  with  which  he  ap- 
prehends many  deceive  themselves.  He  also  discriminates 
between  faith  and  personal  assurance  of  acceptance  with 
God,  which  he  "not  only  grants,  but  strenuously  maintains, 
that  no  one  is  warranted"  to  cherish,  "except  as  he  has 
clear  proof  that  he  is  in  Christ  a  new  creature:  and  has  cru- 
cified ihejiesh  zvith  its  affections  and  lusts.^'' 

Much  of  the  book  is  employed  in  estabhshing  what,  to  a 
•mind  not  corrupted  from  scriptural  simplicity  by  speculation 
or  controversy,  might  not  seem  to  require  proof:  but  the 
general  result  v.'ill  be  found  very  important:  of  which,  I 
think,  the  pious  reader  may  be  fully  convinced,  by  turning, 
previously  to  his  perusal  of  the  whole,  to  the  introductory 
and  the  concluding  pages. 

The  small  "Treatise  on  Growth  in  Grace"  has  been  a 
favorite  with  some  of  its  author's  most  distinguished  friends. 
In  this  work,  the  origin  and  progress  of  "the  love  of  God" 
in  the  human  heart  are  well  traced;  a  comprehensive  ac- 
count is  given  of  Christian  love,  in  general;  and  the  ques- 
tion of  Christians  "leaving  their  first  love"  is  discussed. 
Christian  zeal  is  also  considered,  and  the  notion  of  love  (in- 
stead of  the  law  of  God)  being  our  rule:  and  the  temper  and 
character  of  the  ripe  and  mature  Christian  are  admirably 
delineated.  This  tract,  it  will  be  remembered,  was-c^up- 
posed  for  the  benefit  of  the  beloved  people  whom  the  ajj^ 


423  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap.  XVIIf. 

thor  had  recently  left  at  Ravenstone,  and  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Olney. 

Of  it,  perhaps,  in  particular,  if  may  be  remarked,  what 
appears  to  me  true  of  his  writings  in  general,  that,  while 
they  carefully  avoid  certain  extremes  which  have  been 
countenanced  by  some  good  men  of  a  different  school,  they 
present  the  peculiar  excellencies  of  the  New  England  di- 
vines, relieved  from  a  certain  forbidding  aspect  which  their 
writings  wear  to  the  inexT>erienced  reader. 

The  "Sermon  on  Election  and  Final  Perseverance"  is  of 
a  very  moderate  and  practical  cast.  Had  these  doctrines 
been  always  exhibited  in  the  manner  here  exemplified, 
prejudice  must  have  been  much  abated,  and  many  argu- 
ments employed  against  them  must  have  been  felt  to  be 
irrelevant.  The  author  expressly  undertakes  to  shew  that 
they  are  consistent  with  exhortatory  and  practical  preach- 
ing*, and  conducive  to  holiness  of  life."  Difterent  opinions 
will  be  formed  of  his  success  in  this  undertaking:  one  thing*, 
however,  is  most  evident,  that,  in  asserting  what  he  deemed 
to  be  one  part  of  scriptural  truth,  it  never  entered  into  his 
plan  to  give  up  another  part,  or  in  the  least  degree  to  throw 
it  into  shade. — What  may  appear  to  some  a  peculiarity 
of  the  sermon,  though  that  must  be  ill  intitled  to  such  a 
name,  which  is  common  to  almost  all  Calvinistic  church- 
men, to  many  dissenters,  and  to  the  principal  American  di- 
vines, is  its  maintaining,  in  connexion  with  its  other  doc- 
trines, that  of  Christ's  having  died  for  all  men,  or,  in  other 
words,  of  general,  or  universal  redemption.  It  may  deserve 
also  to  be  remarked,  that  the  author  adduces,  in  this  dis- 
course, as  most  exactly  expressive  of  his  sentiments  upon 
this  subject,  a  part  of  the  Church  Catechism,  which  the 
present  Bishop  of  Winchester,  several  years  afterwards, 
brought  forward  in  one  of  those  charges  which  formed  the 
ground-work  of  his  "Refutation  of  Calvinism,"  as  decisive 
proof  that  the  Church  of  England  rejected  the  doctrines  in 
support  of  which  the  sermon  is  written.  The  part  of  the 
catechism  referred  to  is  that,  which  affirms  that  God  the 
Son  "redeemed  all  mankind,"  and  that  God  the  Holy  Ghost 
"sanctitieth  all  the  elect  people  of  God:"  placing  the  hmi- 
tation  not  on  redemption  but  on  sanctification;.  or,  as  some 
have  expressed  it,  not  upon  the  impetration^  but  upon  the 
application  of  redemption. 

Before  we  quit  this  publication,  I  would  observe  that, 
firmly  as  the  author  held  the  doctrines  of  personi\l  election 


Chap.  XVIII.]  HIS  WORKS.  429 

and  final  perseverance,  he  continued  to  the  end  of  life,  as  he 
had  done  in  his ''Force  of  Truth,"  to  place  tliese  tenets  in  a 
very  different  rank  from  those  of  hnman  depravity,  justi- 
fication by  faith,  and  regeneration  and  sanctification  by  the 
Holy  Spirit.  The  latter  and  not  the  former,  whatever  any 
may  choose  to  impute  to  him,  constituted  the  substance  of 
his  divinity  and  of  his  teaching;  as  they  do  of  those  of  the 
clergy  v/ith  whom  he  is  usually  classed.  We  have  found 
this  as  strongly  stated  in  his  private  correspomjence  as  it  can 
be  in  any  public  documents  either  of  his,  or  of  those  who, 
from  {heh-avorving  less  Calvinism  than  he  did,  are  represent- 
ed as  being  less  honest.  W^e  have  seen  him  not  only  adopt- 
ing Mr.  Newton's  sentiments,  that,  though  Calvinistic  prin- 
ciples were  to  diffuse  an  influence  over  all  our  instructions, 
they  were,  generally  speaking,  to  be  found  no  where  in  the 
lump;*  but  also  writing  to  a  friend.  If  you  find  any  thing 
too  Calvinistic  for  you  in  my  works  "you  must  skip  z7;"tHnd 
even  saying  of  Mr.  Wilberforce's  book,  "It  is  not  Calvinistic 
— perhaps  it  is  so  much  the  better:"| — that  is,  it  may  the 
better  answer  the  purposes  for  which  it  was  written.  And,  at 
the  close  of  this  very  "Sermon  on  Election  and  Persever- 
ance,'- he  thus  declares  his  sentiments  concerning  bringing 
these  docfrines  forward  in  the  pulpit: 

"And  now  in  applying  the  subject  I  would  observe  that^ 
while  numbers  ar^ue  with  the  greatest  vehemence  against 
the  points  in  question,  and  groundlessly  charge  them  with 
implying  the  most  dishonorable  thoughts  of  God,  and  tend- 
ing to  the  most  pernicious  consequences;  others  are  ready 
to  say  in  extravagant  zeal,  to  any  one  of  greater  moderation, 
4fyou  really  believe  these  doctrines,  why  do  you  preach 
them  so  sparingly,  cautiously,  and  practically?'  I  would  de- 
sire such  a  man  carefully  to  study  even  St.  l^aul's  Epistles.^ 
and  to  answer  the  objection  himself  Perhaps  he  may  find 
that  there  is  not  a  less  proportion  on  such  subjects  in  our 
sermons  and  publications,  than  in  his  writings;  and  that 
Ke  as  carefully  guards  them  from  abuse,  and  connects  them 
as  much  with  holy  practice,  as  we  can  do.  We  generally 
meet  with  a  few  verses  in  an  Epistle  upon  the  doctrines  in 
question;  a  much  larger  proportion  upon  the  person,  love, 
and  sufferings  of  Christ,  and  on  faith  in  him;  and  whole 
chapters  upon  a  holy  life  and  conversation:  and,  if  we  do. 
not  in  the  same  manner  proportion,  guard,  and  connect  them^ 

•  Above,  p.  20r.  t  Above,  p.  301.  ^  Above,  p.  234, 


430  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap.  XVIH. 

hypocrites  will  abuse  them,  infidels  will  despise  them,  and 
the  weak  will  be  stumbled.  Indeed  they  are  not  at  all  pro- 
per subjects  to  insist  on,  when  we  preach  to  sinners,  to  pre- 
judiced hearers,  or  newly-awakened  persons;  and  are  sel- 
dom if  ever  found  in  scripture  explicitly  thus  addressed: 
yet  a  great  part  of  our  more  public  ministry  is  exercised 
among  such  persons.  Let  it  not  then  be  thought  carnal 
policy  to  adapt  our  discourses  to  the  occasions  and  wants  of 
the  hearers,  while  nothing  inconsistent  with  truth  is  spoken, 
nothing  profitable  kept  back.  Our  Lord  himself  says,  / 
have  yet  many  things  to  say  vnto  you^  but  ye  cannot  bear  them 
now:  and  Paul  writes  to  some  who  were  prone  to  be  wise 
in  their  own  conceits — /  could  not  speak  unto  you  as  unto  spirit- 
ual^ but  as  unto  carnaL  I  have  fed  you  with  milk^  and  not 
Tuith  meat^  for  hitherto  ye  were  not  able  to  bear  it;  neither  yet  are 
ye  now  able:  and  he  gives  a  reason  for  this  conduct,  which 
proves  that  many  in  most  congregations  are  not  able,  name- 
ly the  prevalence  of  strife  and  contention  among  them." 

The  volume  of  "Essays"  is  too  well  known  to  need  any 
extended  remarks.  The  author  himself  speaks  of  it  as  con- 
taining "a  compendious  system  ©fthe  Christian  religion,  ac- 
cording to  his  views  of  it:"  and  Mr.  Wilson  describes  it  as 
"incomparable  for  the  plain  exposition  of  truth."  It  is  close, 
and  full  of  thought  perspicuously  and  forcibly  expressed; 
and  perhaps  no  where,  within  the  same  compass,  can  the 
rbader  be  referred  to  more  copious,  sound,  and  important 
religious  instruction.  I  would  point  out  particularly  the 
second  Essay,  on  the  Importance  of  Revealed  Truth,  and 
on  the  reception  of  it  upon  the  authority  of  Him  who  has  re- 
vealed it;  the  third,  on  the  Scriptural  Character  of  God;  the 
fifteenth,  on  the  Uses  of  the  Moral  Law  in  subserviency  to 
the  Gospel;  the  eighteenth,  on  the  Disposition  and  Charac- 
ter of  the  True  Believer;  the  twentieth  and  twenty-first  on 
Relative  Duties;  and  the  twenty-third  on  the  Improvement 
of  Talents;  as  characteristic,  and  peculiarly  valuable. — 
One  delightful  instance  of  the  usefulness  of  this  work,  in  the 
case  of  a  literary  and  philosophic  character,  who  was  by  its, 
means  reclaimed  from  skeptical  principles,  and  established 
in  the  practical  and  effectual  faith  of  the  gospel,  has  since 
the  author's  death,  been  announced  to  the  world  in  the  brief 
memoir  of  Thomas  Bateman,  M.  D.*  But  this  is  only  one 
among  many  proofs  of  the  happy  effects  of  his  writings. 

*  Christian  Observer  for  November  1821. 


Chap.  XVIII.]  HIS  WORKS.  431 

In  speaking  of  his  "Volume  of  Sermons,*'  and  of  his 
"Four  Sermons,"  which  may  be  connected  with  them,  I 
shall  not  presume  to  enter  into  anyexamination  of  his  pul- 
pit composition.  The  subject  has  already  been  touched 
upon  both  by  Mr.  Wilson,  and  in  the  letter  which  I  had  so 
much  pleasure  in  inserting  at  the  close  of  his  "Character." 
He  is  allowed  to  have  been  defective  in  style  and  manner, 
and  in  some  other  qualities,  which  might  have  rendered  his 
discourses  more  attractive,  both  to  the  hearer  and  the  rea- 
der: but  it  would  not  be  easj'to  point  out  a  preacher  whose 
sermons  carried  in  them  greater  weight  of  matter,  or  who 
more  excelled  in  "rightly  dividing  the  word  of  truth," 
giving  to  every  character  "his  portion  in  due  season."  I 
confess  it  always  appeared  to  me,  that,  while  he  was  the 
strictest  and  most  practical  preacher  I  could  hear,  he  was 
also  the  most  consolatory;  because  he  not  only  pointed  out 
where  comfort  was  to  be  had,  but  what  was  the  legitimate 
mode  of  appropriating  it.  By  always  describing  the  char- 
acter for  whom  it  was  designed,  and  that  with  great  conde- 
scension to  the  feelings  of  the  humblest  upright  Christian, 
he  enabled  those  to  whom  consolation  belonged  to  perceive 
their  interest  in  it. 

The  design  of  his  volume  of  Sermons  was  thus  explained 
by  himself,  in  a  preface  not  retained  in  the  later  editions: 
*'To  shew  the  absolute  necessity  of  evangelical  principles 
in  order  to  holy  practice,  and  their  never-faihng  efficacy  in 
sanctifying  the  heart,  when  cordially  received;  and  to  ex- 
hibit, according  to  the  best  of  the  author's  ability,  the  na- 
ture and  effects  of  genuine  Christianity,  as  distinguished 
from  every  species  of  false  religion,  without  going  far  out 
of  his  way  to  combat  any  of  them;  is  the  especial  design  of 
this  publication.  But  he  has,  at  the  same  time,  endeavor- 
ed to  explain,  establish,  and  enforce  his  views  of  the  gos- 
pel in  that  manner  which  was  deemed  most  likely  to  inform 
the  mind,  and  affect  the  heart,  of  the  attentive  and  teacha- 
ble reader." 

In  commcRting  on  "The  Pilgrim's  Progrss,"  he  has  not 
only  illustrated  more  fully  and  distinctly,  than  had  ever  be- 
fore been  done,  the  various  scenes  and  characters  of  that 
ingenious  and  most  instructive  allegory;  but  has  found  am- 
ple scope  for  unfolding  and  enforcing  those  views  of  religion 
for  which  he  always  pleaded,  and  in  which  he  appears  to 
have  entirely  coincided  with  his  author.  In  his  preface, 
and  ia  the  Life  of  Bunyan,,  he  thus  speaks  of  the  original 


432  HIS  WORKS.  Chap.  XVllI. 

work:  "The  accurate  observer  of  the  church  in  his  own 
days,  and  the  learned  student  of  ecclesiastical  history,  must 
be  equally  surprised  to  tind,  that  hardly  one  remarkable 
character,  good  or  bad,  or  mixed  in  any  manner  or  propor- 
tion imaginable,  or  one  fatal  delusion,  by-path,  or  injurious 
mistake,  can  be  singled  out,  which  may  not  be  paralleled,  as 
to  the  grand  outlines,  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress."  Yet  "the 
author  was  only  thirty-two  years  of  age  when  he  was  im- 
prisoned; (in  which  situation  he  wrote  this  work:)  "he  had 
spent  his  youth  in  the  most  disadvantageous  manner  imagin- 
able; and  he  had  been  no  more  than  five  years  a  member 
of  the  church  at  Bedford,  and  less  time  a  preacher  of  the 
gospel;"  and  during  part,  at  least,  of  his  tedious  imprison- 
ment of  twelve  years,  he  had  "no  books,  except  a  Bible, 
and  Fox's  Martyrology." — One  specimen  of  the  notes  has 
already  appeared  in  this  work. 

III.     Occasional  sermons. 

Of  these  seven  are  funeral  sermons,  on  Dr.  Conyers,  Mr. 
Thornton,  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Newell,  Penty cross, "and  Bar- 
neth.  Lady  Mary  Fitzgerald,  and  the  princess  Charlotte. 
In  most  of  these  discourses  he  speaks  not  much  of  the  indi- 
viduals; but  notices  the  excellencies  of  their  characters  only 
in  a  general  way.  In  that  on  Dr.  Conyers,  a  change  of 
manner,  as  compared  with  his  preceding  publications,  may 
be  traced,  which  would  not  be  favorable  to  popular- 
ity. There  is  an  increase,  or  even  excess  of  comprehen- 
siveness, but  a  diminution  of  animation.  Indeed  he  com- 
plains in  a  letter,  that  it  cost  him  more  than  usual  trouble 
to  reduce  this  sermon  to  writing,  after  having  preached  it. 
The  Sermons  on  Mr.  Thornton,  Lady  Mary  Fitzgerald,  and 
the  Princess,  have  already  been  sufficiently  noticed.  That 
on  Mr.  Newell  contains  a  copious  and  beautiful  illustration 
of  the  text,  "To  me  to  live  is  Christ,"  &c.,  to  which  great 
stores  of  scriptural  knowledge  are  made  to  contribute. 
Both  this  discourse  and  that  on  Mr.  Pentycross  display  the 
practical  workman,  the  minister  that  "watches  for  souls," 
in  the  manner  in  which  the  subject  is  brought  to  bear  upon 
the  various  descriptions  of  persons  concerned  in  the  event* 
to  be  improved.  The  latter  particularly  considers  the 
wt/3je<r;j,  "the  end  of  the  minister s  conversation,"  spoken  of 
in  the  text,  Hebrews  xiii,  7,  8.  That  on  the  missionary 
Barneth  describes  the  Christian  "hero,"  in  the  very  spirit 
of  the  character  itself,  and  is  rich  in  scriptural  illustration. 


Ghap.  XVIII.]  HIS  WORKS.  433 

His  Sermons  on  national  occasions  are  also  seven  in  num- 
ber: namely,  Fast  Sermons  in  1793,  1794,  and  1796;  and 
Thanksgiving  Sermons  in  1784,  1798,  1802,  and  1814;  to 
which  may  be  added  his  tract  on  the  "Signs  and  Duties  of 
the  Times,"  in  1799. 

Three  principles  pervade  all  his  publications  of  this  de- 
scription: 1.  That  the  proper  business  of  national  fast-days, 
is  humiliation  before  God  for  our  sins  as  a  people  and  as  in- 
dividuals: and  that  of  national  thanksgiving  days,  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  God's  unmerited  mercies  to  us:  2.  That 
the  national  guilt,  which  draws  down  divine  judgments  upon 
us,  is  the  aggregate  of  individual  transgression,  to  which  we 
have  all  contributed  our  full  share:  3.  That  whoever  be 
the  instruments  or  means,  both  calamities  and  deliverances 
are  to  be  considered  as  coming  from  the  hand  of  God;  and 
that  it  is  his  part  in  them,  with  which  alone  we  are  con- 
cerned on  these  occasions.  "Humiliation  for  sin,"  he  ob- 
serves, "or  gratitude  for  unmerited  blessings,  has  nothing 
to  do  with  approbation  or  disapprobation  of"  men  or  meas- 
ures." Thus  he  declines  all  political  discussion — (not  in- 
cluding, however,  under  that  description,  such  an  inculca- 
tion of  the  duties  owing  from  subjects  to  their  rulers,  as  is 
expressly  enjoined  on  Christian  ministers;*) — avoids  taking 
the  side  of  any  party;  rejects  all  declamation  against  the 
sins  of  our  enemies;  and  makes  the  whole  bear,  as  a  per- 
sonal concern,  on  every  individual. 

On  this  whole  class  of  his  publications  I  would  remark,that, 
whereas  it  might  be  thought  an  uninteresting  task  to  read 
over  these  obsolete  fast  and  thanksgiving  sermons,  I  have  by 
no  means  found  it  so.  On  the  contrary  I  thmk  it  impossible 
for  the  well  disposed  mind  to  peruse  them,  without  very 
gratifying  and  very  beneficial  impressions;  especially  when 
the  subsequent  course  of  events,  and  in  particular  the  history 
of  religious  and  benevolent  institutions,  is  retraced  in  con- 
nexion with  them. 

Sermons  preached  for  institutions  of  this  description  are 
the  only  ones  which  remain  to  be  noticed. 

That  before  the  Church  Missionary  Society,  in  1801,  is  a 
very  copious  discourse  on  the  question  of  Missions,  in  which, 
among  other  topics,  the  view  which  the  scriptures  present 
of  the  state  and  prospects  of  the  heathen  is  considered,  and 
it  is  alhrmed,  that  to  think  so  well  as  many  profess  to  do  of 

•  Titus  iii,  1. 


434  HIS  WORKS.  [Chat.  XVIIl.. 

their  condition  is  a  virtual  denial  of  Christianity;  and  that 
contrary  sentiments  concerning  their  state,  so  far  from  be- 
ing the  dictate  of  uncharitableness,  have  been  the  source  of 
ail  the  practical  charity  which  has  been  exercised  towards 
them. — That  before  the  London  Missionary  Society,  in 
1804,  is  a  very  animated  and  effective  address  on  the  com- 
mand, "Pray  ye  therefore  the  Lord  of  the  harvest,  that  he 
would  send  forth  laborers  into  his  harvest."  In  it  the  au- 
thor observes  of  himself:  "An  early  acquaintance  with  the 
writings  of  President  Edwards,  Brainerd,  and  the  New 
England  divines,  gave  my  mind  a  peculiar  turn  to  this  sub- 
ject. The  nations  unacquainted  with  Christ  have  ever 
since  been  near  my  heart:  and  I  never  thought  a  prayer 
complete,  in  which  they  were  wholly  forgotten.  This  was 
the  case  several  years  before  societies  for  missions  (that  is, 
new  societies  in  England)  were  established:  but  I  could  do 
no  more  than  offer  my  feeble  prayers." 

His  sermon  before  the  London  Society  for  promoting 
Christianity  among  the  Jews,  in  1810,  is  perhaps  the  most 
epirited  of  all  his  printed  discourses.  It  contains  a  very 
interesting  illustration  of  the  remarkable  prophecy,  Zach. 
viii,  23:  "In  those  days  it  shall  come  to  pass,  that  ten  men 
shall  take  hold  out  of  all  languages  of  the  nations,  even 
shall  take  hold  of  the  skirt  of  him  that  is  a  Jew,  saying, 
We  will  go  with  you,  for  we  have  heard  that  God  is  with 
you."  Nothing  could  be  more  unlikely,  at  the  time  this 
prophecy  was  delivered,  than  the  fulfilment  which  it  has 
received,  in  all  the  most  enlightened  nations  of  the  earth 
becoming  worshippers  of  the  God  of  the  despised  Jews! 
Yet  the  preacher  argues,  from  comparison  of  the  passage 
with  other  scriptures,  than  it  has  a  still  more  astonishing,  at 
least  a  much  more  extensive  accomplishment  yet  to  receive. 

The  last  Sermon  of  this  description  is  that  before  the 
Governors  of  the  London  Female  Penitentiary,  in  1812; 
which  is  on  "that  one  single  event  occurring  on  earth,  that 
is  declared  to  cause  joy  in  heaven" — a  sinners  coming  to 
repentance. 

IV.  Works  directed  against  the  infidelity  and  disaffec- 
tion of  the  times. — These  are  the  Rights  of  God,  the  An- 
swer to  the  Age  of  Reason,  and  the  Tract  on  Government. 

The  first,  it  has  already  been  said,  gained  but  little  at- 
tention; less,  I  think,  than  it  deserves,  as  compared  with 
the  rest  of  the  author''s  smaller  works.  It  is  perhaps  the 
best  written,  in  point  of  style,  of  all  his  pubhcations.     It  is 


Chap.  XVIIL]  HlS   WORKS.  435 

also  well  argued,  and  seems  suited  to  the  purpose  of  pre- 
cluding many  of  those  false  reasonings,  by  which  numbers 
are  prejudiced  against  the  scriptuVes  previously  to  examin- 
ation; and  excuse  to  their  own  minds  the  neglect  with 
which  they  treat  them.  It  is  calculated  to  obviate  infideli- 
ty, not  by  meeting  its  cavils  in  detail,  but  by  possessing  the 
mind  with  principles  which  would  exclude  them.  It  pleads 
the  cause  of  Christian  doctrines  not  by  adducing  scriptural 
proofs, — for  that  would  be  foreign  to  the  present  purpose, 
— but  by  defending  them  against  the  charge  of  being  so  un- 
reasonable as  to  be  rejected  without  listening  to  their  evi- 
dence.— Besides  meeting  specific  objections,  the  Answer  to 
Paine  treats  more  generally,  in  as  many  distinct  chapters, 
of  Revelation,  Miracles,  Prophecy,  the  Canon  of  Scripture, 
Mystery,  Redemption,  the  Insufficiency  of  Deism,  and  the 
Nature  and  tendency  of  Christianity. 

The  "Impartial  Statement  of  the  Scripture  Doctrine  i» 
respect  of  Civil  Government,  and  the  Duties  of  Subjects," 
must  be  allowed,  I  think,  by  all  candid  persons,  to  be  very 
moderate,  wise,  and  useful;  and  it  is  still  seasonable.  It  is 
divided  into  three  chapters:  the  first  containing  "Proposi- 
tions concerning  Civil  Government  as  the  ordinance  of 
God:"  the  second  pointing  out  "Things  not  the  duties  of 
Subjects  to  their  Rulers:"  and  the  third,  "Duties  incumbent 
on  us  to  our  Rulers,  and  in  respect  of  Civil  Government." 

V.  Other  Controversial  Works:  namely,  the  Answer  to 
Rabbi  Crooll  on  the  Jewish  question,  the  Answer  to  Bishop 
Tomline's  "Refutation  of  Calvinism,"  and,  as  arising  out  of 
it,  the  History  of  the  Synod  of  Dort. 

The  first  of  these  publications  has  been  repeatedly  ad- 
verted to  in  letters  written  while  it  was  in  preparation,  anfil 
inserted  in  a  former  part  of  this  work.  It  may  here  be  re- 
marked that,  besides  following  the  work  which  gave  occa- 
sion to  it,  from  page  to  page,  and  answering  its  objections^ 
or  meeting  its  arguments  as  they  arise,  (a  mode  of  reply, 
which,  it  must  be  confessed,  combines  with  some  advantage! 
an  apparent  want  of  arrangement.)  it  discusses,  in  a  distinct 
manner,  the  following  principal  questions  and  subjects: 

1.  'Was  the  Messiah,  predicted  in  the  Old  Testament, 
to  have  an  immediate  human  father? 

2.  'Was  he  to  be  a  mere  man  or  not? 

3.  'At  what  period  was  his  coming  to  take  place? 

4.  'What  are  we  to  understand  by  "the  limes  of  the 
Gentiles?" 


436  HIS  WORKS.  [CnAr.  XVIIf. 

5.  *What  have  been  the  effects  of  Christ's  coming  on 
the  stale  of  the  world?'— answered  in  a  very  forcible  and 
interesting  manner. 

6.  'The  triumphs  of  Jesus  compared  with  those  of  Mo- 
hammed;' particularly  in  three  points,  1.  'The  state  of  the 
countries  in  which  their  first  successes  were  respectively 
obtained:  2.  The  nature  of  the  rehgion  propagated  by 
each:  and,  3.  The  means  by  which  the  triumphs  of  each 
were  gained?' — This  was  the  author's  favorite  section,  and  it 
is  certainly  very  striking.  It  treats  the  subject  more  in  de- 
tail than  is  usually  done. 

7.  'Whether  the  Messiah  was  to  be  the  Messiah  of  Is- 
rael only,  or  of  the  Gentiles  also? 

8.  'How  far  and  in  what  cases  miracles  are  a  proof  of 
a  divine   mission? 

9.  'Was  the  Messiah's  kingdom  to  be  spiritual  or  abso- 
lutely earthly? 

10.  'The  Priesthood  of  the  Messiah. 

]  J .  'The  reception  which  he  was  to  meet  with  from  the 
nation  of  Israel. 

12.  'The  death  which  he  was  to  suffer,  and  the  end  to 
be  answered  by  it. — Here  striking  remarks  are  made  on 
Isaiah  liii.  Psalm  xxii,  and  other  scriptures. 

13.  'His  resurrection,  subsequent  glory,  and  kingdom.' 
All  these  questions  are,  of  course,  discussed  from  the  Old 

Testament  alone.  The  subjects  also  of  sacrifices,  the  oral 
law,  or  traditions,  and  several  others  come  under  consider- 
ation. 

Of  the  work  generally,  the  Christian  Observer,  for  1815, 
thus  speaks:  "Should  it  prove  the  cycnea  vox^  the  dying  note 
of  this  truly  great  man,  (the  author,)  which  we  trust  it  may 
not,  we  shall  say  much  for  this  publication  if  we  pronounce 
it  worthy  to  be  so;  and  state'  it  to  be  inferior  neither  in 
matter  nar  temper  to  any  of  the  truly  Christian  production* 
of  his  powerful  mind" 

On  the  Answer  to  the  "Refutation  of  Calvinism"  I  shall 
do  little  more  than  transcribe  the  opinion  which  Mr.  Wilson 
has  given,  in  notes  annexed  to  his  funeral  sermons.  "It  ap- 
pears to  me,"  he  says,  "incomparable  for  the  acute  and 
masterly  defence  of  truth."  And  again:  "The  effects  of  these 
great  qualities" — decision,  activity,  and  childlike  submission, 
to  divine  revelation, — "are  observable  in  every  part  of  our 
departed  friend's  writings.  They  are  full  of  thought;  full 
©f  4he  seeds  of  things,'  as  was  said  of  Lord  Bacon's  works. 


Ghap.  XVm.]  HIS  WORKS.  437 

The  ore  dug  up  from  the  mine  is  not  unalloyed  indeed,  but 
it  is  rich  and  copious,  and  well  worthy  of  the  process  ne- 
cessary to  bring  it  into  use.  Take  as  an  instance,  'The  Re- 
marks,' which,  in  the  second  edition,  I  venture  to  call  one 
of  the  first  theological  treatises  of  the  day;  it  is  pregnant 
with  valuable  matter,  not  merely  on  the  questions  directly 
discussed,  but  on  almost  every  topic  of  doctrinal  and  prac- 
tical divinity." 

It  is  needless  to  saj',  that  they  are  not  the  mere  peculiar- 
ities of  Calvinism  which  are  defended  in  this  work:  had  such 
been  the  only  points  assailed,  it  would  probably  never  have 
appeared:  ''But,  in  falling  foul  of  Calvinism,"  the  vol- 
ume which  gave  occasion  to  it  offended  grievously  against 
Bishop  Horsley's  caution,  to  beware  of  "attacking  some- 
thing more  sacred,  and  of  a  higher  origin" — even  what  "be- 
longs to  our  common  Christianity;"  and  hence  the  answer^ 
of  course,  takes  equally  wide  ground. — To  the  Christian 
temper,  and  respectful  style  in  which  itis  written,  the  learn- 
ed prelate  concerned  is  said,  1  believe  upon  good  authority, 
to  have  done  justice. 

The  learned  and  candid  head  of  Oriel  College,  Oxford, 
also,  in  quoting  from  this  work  a  passage  to  which  all  who 
engage  in  religious  controversy  would  do  well  to  take  heed, 
terms  the  author  "one  of  the  most  pious  and  temperate 
writers"  among  modern  Calvinists,  and  says  of  him,  "whose 
truly  Christian  sentiments  1  always  admire,  although  his 
opinions  upon  the  main  doctrine  under  consideration" — that 
of  predestination — "appear  to  me  mistaken  and  dangerous."* 

The  Uttle  work  on  the  Synod  of  Dort  arose  out  of  the 
preceding  publication.  The  account  of  the  Synod  com- 
monly received  in  this  country  is  that  furnished  by  the  prej- 
udiced Peter  Heylin,  who  gives  the  abbreviation  of  the  ar- 
ticles by  Daniel  Til^nus,  instead  of  the  articles  themselves. 
His  statements  are  taken  upon  trust,  and  repeated  by  one 
writer  after  another,  in  a  manner  little  creditable  either  to  • 
their  diligence  or  their  candor.  My  fathef,  finding  these 
abbreviated  articles  in  the  Refutation  of  Calvinism,  remark- 
ed upon  them,  in  the  first  edition  of  his  answer,  as  if  they 
had  been  authentic,  and  thus,  as  he  says,  "erroneously 
adopted  and  aided  ^  circulating  a  gross  misrepresentation  of 
the  Synod."  The  discovery  of  his  mistake  led  him  to  a 
more  full  investiga^tion  of  the  subject,  and  thus  to  translate 

*  Copieston  on  Necessity  and  Fredeatiaation,  p.  90.  J 
*37 


438  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap.  XVIII. 

and  give  to  the  public,  1.  "The  History  of  preceding 
Events"  which  led  to  the  convocation  of  the  Sym;^;  2. 
"The  Judgment  of  the  Synod,"  concerning  the  five  contro- 
verted heads  of  doctrine:  3.  "The  Articles"  of  the  Synod: 
4.  "The  Approbation  of  the  States  General:" — subjoining 
his  own  remarks  on  each  part.  The  translation  is  made 
from  the  "Acts"  of  the  Synod  published  by  authority,  in  a 
Latin  quarto  volume:  a  work  which,  it  is  worthy  of  re- 
mark, is  never  alluded  to  by  either  Mosheim  or  his  transla- 
tor Maclaine,  though  they  refer  to  various  other  writings, 
on  both  sides,  apparently  of  a  less  authentic  character.  The 
following  reasons  are  assigned  for  the  publication  before  us: 
1.  "That  a  very  interesting  and  important  part  of  ecclesias- 
tical history  has  been  obscured  and  overwhelmed  with  un- 
merited disgrace,  by  the  misrepresentations  given  of  the 
Synod  and  its  articles,  especially  in  this  nation:"  2.  That 
the  author  wished  "to  prove,  that  the  doctrines  commonly 
termed  Calvinistic,  whether  they  be  or  be  not  the  doctrines 
of  scriptural  Christianity,  may  yet  be  so  stated  and  explain- 
ed, without  any  skilful  and  labored  efforts,  as  to  coincide 
with  the  strictest  practical  views  of  our  holy  religion,  and 
so  as  greatly  to  encourage  and  promote  genuine  holiness:" 
3.  That  "in  a  day  when  these  doctrines  are  not  only  pro- 
scribed in  a  most  hostile  manner  on  one  side,  but  deplorably 
misunderstood  and  perverted  by  many  on  the  other  side,  he 
desired  to  add  one  more  testimony  against  these  migappre- 
hensions  and  perversions,  by  shewing  in  what  a  holy,  guard- 
ed, and  reverential  manner  the  divines  of  this  reprobated 
Synod  stated  and  explained  them,  compared  with  the  super- 
ficial, incautious,  and  often  unholy  and  presumptuous  man- 
ner of  too  many  in  the  present  day:"  4.  That  he  also  "de- 
sired to  make  it  maniiest,  that  the  deviations  from  the 
creeds  of  the  reformed  churches,  in  those  points  which  are 
more  properly  called  Calvinistic,  is  seldom  for  any  length 
of  time  kept  separate  from  deviations  in  those  doctrines, 
-which  are  more  generally  allowed  to  be  essential  to  vital 
Christianity."  b.  That  he  "purposed,  by  means  of  this 
publication,  to  leave  behind  him  in  print  his  deliberate  judg- 
ment on  several  controverted  points;  which  (judgment) 
must  otherwise  have  died  with  him,  or  1  kve  been  published 
separately, — for  which  he  had  no  inclination."  The  con- 
troverted points  referred  to,  are  principally  those  relating 
to  toleration,  religious  liberty,  terms  of  communion,  and 
other  ecclesiastical  questions.     To  his  sentiaients  here  dc- 


Chap.  XVIII.]         HIS  THEOLOGY.  439 

livered  on  these  subjects,  we  may  apply  what  he  himself 
has  said  of  the  kindred  ones  contained  in  another  publicatiori, 
to  be  noticed  immediately,  they  are  such  as  "will  please  the 
bigots  of  no  party." 

In  this  work  (page  172,)  he  delivers  a  strong  opinion  on 
the  subject  of  what  is  miscalled  Catholic  emancipation. 

In  the  present  class  we  may  perhaps  range  the  only  sep- 
arate publication  which  remains  to  be  noticed:  the  Letters 
to  the  Rev.  Peter  Roe  on  Ecclesiastical  Establishments,  ad- 
herence to  the  Church  of  England,  &,c.  with  a  Tractate  an- 
nexed on  the  Religious  Establishment  of  Israel.  The  last 
he  esteemed  to  be  novel:  at  least,  he  observed,  it  was  quite 
new  to  himself  The  principle  which  it  chiefly  goes  to  es- 
tablish is,  that  the  conduct  of  the  pious  kings  and  governors 
of  Judah, — Jehoshaphat,  Hezekiah,  Josiah,  Zerubbabel, 
Ezra,  Nehemiah — in  their  exertions  for  promoting  religion 
among  those  under  their  command,  which  are  sanctioned 
by  the  unqualified  approbation  of  scripture,  "was  not 
adopted  in  obedience  to  any  part  of  the  ritual  or  political 
law  of  Moses,"  but  was  nothing  more  than  that  improve- 
ment of  their  talents,  which  would  be  incumbent  upon  any 
persons  now  occupying  similar  stations,  and  "was  intended 
as  an  example  for  kings  and  princes,  professing  Christianity, 
to  imitate."  That  spirit  of  moderation,  which,  the  writer 
anticipated,  would  render  these  letters  distasteful  to  zeal- 
ots on  all  sides,  will  make  them  the  more  acceptable  to 
fair  and  reasonable  men;  and  they  will  probably  be  deemed 
by  such  persons  better  suited  to  plead  the  cause  of  the  es- 
tablished church,  by  their  not  taking  it  up  upon  too  high 
grounds. 

Besides  these  works,  my  father  was  the  author  of  many 
detached  papers  in  various  periodical  publications,  some  of 
which  are  to  be  found  in  the  fourth  volume  of  his  collected 
works;  and  a  specimen  of  them  has  been  mtroduced  in 
speaking  of  the  general  principle  of  interpretation  adopted 
in  his  Commentary. 

Passing  from  this  review  of  my  father's  works  to  some 
ebserv.ations  on  the  general  character  of  his  theology,  I 
should  say,  that  its  great  and  distinguishing  excellency  ap- 
pears to  be — its  comprehensiveness.  It  embraces,  as  far  per- 
haps as  the  infirmity  of  human  nature  will  permit,  the  whole 
compass  of  scripture.  Like  the  father  of  the  faithful,  he 
"walks  through  the  land  in  the  length  thereof  and  in  the 
breadth  thereof"     It  would  be  difficult,  I  think,  to  name  a 


440  HIS  THEOLOGY.         [Chap.  XVHI. 

writer,  who  more  faithfully  and  unreservedly  brings  forward 
every  part  of  scriptural  instruction  in  its  due  place  and  pro- 
portion, and  is  content  upon  all  of  them  "to  speak  as  do  the 
oracles  of  God."  He  sacrifices  no  one  doctrine  or  principle, 
nor  suffers  himself  to  be  restrained  in  fairly  and  fully  press- 
ing each  upon  attention,  by  jealousy  for  the  security  and 
honor  of  any  others.  Persuaded  that  scripture  is  every 
where  consistent  with  itself,  whether  it  appears  to  us  to  be 
so  or  not,  he  has  no  ambition  to  preserve  apparent  consisten- 
cy more  exactly  than  the  sacred  writers  have  done.  Hence 
he  never  scruples  to  unite  together  those  truths  of  divine 
revelation  which  to  many  appear  as  if  they  must  exclude 
one  another.  He  teaches  the  total  inability  of  fallen  man, 
unrenewed  by  divine  grace,  to  render  any  acceptable  obe- 
dience to  God;  but  he  never  for  a  moment  suffers  himself 
to  be  entangled  in  the  reasonings  of  those  who  would  on  this 
ground  call  in  question  the  obligations  of  the  divine  law,  or 
forbear  to  press  upon  all  men  the  commands  and  exhorta- 
tions, which  the  sacred  scriptures  do  certainly  address  to  them. 
He  teaches  that  'nio  man  can  come  to  Christ  except  the 
Father  draw  him:"  yet  he  feels  no  hesitation  in  connecting 
with  this  principle,  the  invitation,  "whosoever  will  let  him 
come,"  the  assurance,  "him  that  cometh  I  will  in  no  wise 
cast  out,"  or  the  inexcusable  guilt  of  those  who  "will  not 
come."  He  believed  that  God  knew  whom  he  had  chosen, 
and  that  none  would  eventually  attain  eternal  Hfe,  but  those 
whom  the  Father,  by  his  own  purpose  and  grace,  had 
"given"  unto  Christ:  yet  he  unequivocally  teaches  that 
Christ  died  for  all  men,  and  that  none  fail  of  being  saved 
by  him,  except  by  their  own  fault.  He  asserts  with  un- 
wavering confidence  and  zeal,  that  our  justification  is  alto- 
gether free,  of  grace,  through  faith,  "for  the  merits  of  our 
Lord  and  Savior  Jesus  Christ  alone,"  and  in  no  degree  "for 
our  own  works  or  deservings:"  yet  he  equally  maintains, 
that  he  only  "who  doeth  righteousness  is  righteous;"  see- 
ing all  true  faith  must  and-  will  prove  itself  by  its  fruits: 
and  insists  that  we  are  still  under  the  law  as  a  rw/e,  though 
delivered  from  it  as  a  covenant.  He  held  that  all  true  be- 
lievers in  Christ  are  "kept  by  the  power  of  God  through 
faith  unto  salvation,"  and  will  certainly  persevere  unto  the 
end;  and  yet  that  "if  any  man  draw  back,  God  shall  have 
no  pleasure  in  him;"  and  that,  if  we  would  ever  come  to 
heaven  we  must  "give  diligence  to  make  our  calling  an^ 
election  sure." 


Chap.  XVIII.]  HIS  THEOLOGY.  441 

It  is  almost  needless  to  observe  to  ht)w  many  charges  of 
error  on  the  right  hand  and  the  left,  this  resolute  adher- 
ence to  the  whole  of  scriptural  instruction  would  expose 
him,  at  different  times  and  from  different  classes  of  men. 
The  anti-Calvinist  reproached  him  for  his  Calyinism,  and 
the  hyper-Calvinist  called  him  an  Arminian.  The  mere 
moralist  trembled  for  the  consequences  of  his  aniinomian 
doctrine  of  justification;  while  numbers  in  an  opposite  ex- 
treme considered  his  insisting  upon  the  evidences  of  faith, 
and  the  general  strictness  of  his  teaching,  as  legal^  engen- 
dering a  "spirit  of  bondage,"  and  involving  a  surrender  of 
the  freeness  of  the  gospel,  and  of  the  privileges  of  the  be- 
liever. He  however  preached  and  wrote  "straight  for- 
ward,"— according  to  an  expression  noticed  above:  (p.  297,) 
he  constantly  moved  on  in  the  course  which  he  saw 
clearly  marked  out  before  him,  heedless  of  conflicting 
charges  which  appeared  to  him  evidently  directed  against 
the  practice  of  scripture,  and  not  against  any  unauthorised 
peculiarity  of  his  own.  He  was  fully  of  opinion,  that  the 
church  of  Christ  had  ever  been  grievously  infested  by 
schemes  of  divinity,  of  different  kinds,  formed  by  setting  up 
a  part,  often  a  small  part  of  divine  truth,  to  the  compara- 
tive neglect,  or  even  exclusion  of  the  rest:  he  wished 
therefore  to  be  constantly  comparing  his  own  theology  with 
the  whole  of  scripture,  and  could  never  be  satisfied  while 
any  part  of  the  divine  oracles  seemed  not  to  obtain  its  due 
portion  of  regard,  or  to  require  any  force  to  be  put  upon  it 
to  make  it  comport  with  his  views. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  to  be  here  implied,  that  he  every 
where,  and  on  all  points,  attained  to  a  perfect  conformity 
with  the  word  of  God:  no  one  could  be  more  sensible  than 
he  was  of  the  error  and  imperfection  which  must  ever  at- 
tend all  human  attainments.  But  such  as  has  been  described 
was  his  aim — the  object  of  his  incessant  study,  and  unweari- 
ed prayers:  and  the  most  that  is  here  affirmed  is,  that  he 
appears  to  have  been  a  thoroughly  scriptural  divine,  as  far 
perhaps  as  we  can  hope  to  see  it  granted  to  the  imperfec- 
tion of  human  nature  to  become  such. 

What  has  been  already  stated  must  virtually  include  ev- 
ery thing  else  that  I  can  have  to  observe  on  his  theology: 
still  there  are  one  or  two  points  which  I  would  notice  mo^e 
distinctly. 

I  next,  therefore,  observe   that  his  theology  was  distih- , 
guished  by  its  highly  practical  character: — under  which  term, 


442  HIS  THEOLOGY.  [Chap.  XVIII. 

I  include  not  only  its  sobriety,  moderation,  and  freedom 
from  refinement  and  speculation,  but  especially  its  holy 
strictness.  The  reader  will,  throug-hout  this  work,  have 
observed  him  complaining  of  the  degree  of  antinomianism, 
both  theoretical  and  practical,  which  was  prevalent,  and 
against  which  he  accordmgly  very  much  directed  his  efforts, 
both  from  the  pulpit  and  the  press. 

What  were  his  views  of  the  antinomian  tendency  of  much 
public  teaching  may  receive  illustration  from  the  extract  of 
ac  letter  inserted  in  an  early  part  of  his  history.*  It  was 
not  merely  where  tenets  positively  antinomian  were  avow- 
ed— where  the  law  was  denied  to  be  the  rule  of  duty — 
where  indeed  "duty"  was  declared  "not  to  be  a  word  for  a 
Christian" — where  the  trial  of  our  faith  by  its  fruits  was 
discarded — but  wherever  Christians  were  left  uninstructed 
in  their  various  duties;  were  only  told  in  general,  that  they 
must  be  holy,  while  the  nature  and  the  particulars  of  holi- 
ness were  left  unexplained,  and  little  else  than  doctrines 
and  privileges  were  insisted  on.  In  all  these  cas^s  he 
thought  the  teaching  of  an  antinomian  tendency. 

Practical  antinomianism  also  prevailed,  according  to  his 
view  of  things,  not  only  where  men  were  dishonest  or  licen- 
tious under  a  religious  profession,  (though  many  such  fla- 
grant instances  existed,)  but  wherever  worldliness  of  mind, 
luxury,  unchristian  tempers,  the  neglect  of  relative  duties, 
or  a  slothful  and  self-indulgent  omission  of  the  proper  im- 
provement of  talents,  was  allowed  under  a  profession  of 
religion. — He  found  when  he  entered  upon  his  course, 
throughout  a  great  part  of  the  religious  world,  repentance 
little  insisted  upon, — faith  represented  as  very  much  con- 
sisting in  personal  assurance, — religious  professors  in  gen- 
eral, with  Uttle  previous  inquiry,  encouraged  and  even  urg- 
ed to  keep  up  a  good  opinion  of  their  own  safe  state  (as  it 
must  indeed  be  every  man's  duty  to  do,  if  such  be  the 
nature  of  faith;) — the  evidence  of  holy  fruits  but  dubiously 
required  in  order  to  warrant  any  man's  confidence  concern- 
ing himself — the  love  of  God  resolved  into  little  more  than 
mere  gratitude  for  benefits  assumed  to  have  been  received 
(which  is  easily  excited  under  such  a  system,  upon  very 
fallacious  grounds;) — particular  duties  not  at  all  dwelt  up-* 
on— invitations  and  exhortations  very  much  neglected,  even 
where  their  propriety  was  not  called  in  question.     It  need 

*  See  page  145. 


CuAP.  XVIII.]  HIS  THEOLOGY.  443 

not  here  be  said  how  directly  he  opposed  himself  to  the 
whole  of  this  scheme:  how  he  insisted  on  "repentance,  and 
fruits  meet  for  repentance;*"  on  the  sanctifying  effects  of 
all  true  faith,  by  which  alone  its  existence  can  be  proved; 
on  reconciliation  to  the  divine  holiness,  law,  and  govern- 
ment, as  well  as  gratitude  for  mercies  received;  and  on  all 
the  detail  of  duty — fully  and  particularly  laying  open  the 
divine  law  in  its  strictness  and  extent,  both  for  the  convic- 
tion of  the  sinner,  and  for  the  information  of  the  Christian 
believer,  "how  in  all  things  he  ought  to  walk  and  to  please 
God."  He  spoke  much  of  the  necessity  of  distinguishing 
preaching,  which  should,  as  clearly  as  possible,  discriminate 
not  only  truth  from  error  in  doctrine,  but  the  genuine  from 
the  spurious  in  Christian  experience,  and  the  sound  charac- 
ter from  the  unsound,  among  persons  professing  godliness. 
In  this  way  he  commenced,  and  he  persevered  to  the  end — ■ 
"abounding  more  and  more;"  and  he  Hved  to  see,  under 
God's  blessing,  his  exertions  crowned  with  great  and  exten- 
sive success. 

But,  lastly,  though  highly  practical,  the  whole  of  his  theol- 
ogy was  also  strongly  evangelical: — which  term  I  here  use 
in  no  sense  that  any  person  of  common  fairness  can  call 
sectarian.  1  mean  by  it,  that  the  great  truths  relating  to 
our  redemption,  and  the  promises  of  mercy  and  grace  made 
to  us  in  Jesus  Christ,  were  ever  prominent  in  his  own  mind, 
and  in  the  whole  of  his  instructions.  He  never  lost  sight 
of  them;  he  never  threw  them  into  shade:  he  could  not  do 
it:  he  had  that  constant  and  deep  sense  of  their  necessity, 
as  the  support  of  his  own  hopes,  and  the  source  of  all  his 
strength  and  vigor  for  every  duty,  which  would  have 
effectually  prevented  his  keeping  them  back,  or  proposing 
them  timide  gelideqve^  even  if  he  had  not  been  on  principle 
80  decidedly  opposed  as  he  was  to  such  a  line  of  conduct. 
He  held,  as  Bishop  Burnett  also  did,  that  not  even  a  single 
sermon  should  fail  of  so  far  developing  the  principles  of  the 
gospel,  as  distinctly  to  point  out  the  way  of  salvation  to  the 
awakened  and  inquiring  conscience:  and  that  this  would 
easily  be  done,  by  a  mind  as  fully  imbued  as  it  should  be  with 
Christian  truths,  without  doing  any  violence  to  the  particu- 
lar subject  under  discussion,  or  even  infringing  the  rules  of 
good  composition.  And,  so  far  from  thinking  that  a  tend- 
ency towards  an  antinomian  abuse  of  the  truths  of  the  gospel 
was  to  be  counteracted  by  a  jealous,  timid,  scanty,  reluctant 
exhibition  of  them,  he  was  decidedly  of  opinion,  that  nothing 


444  CONCLUSION.  [Chaf.  XVIH. 

gave  more  advantage  to  corrupt  teachers,  than  such  a  plan; 
which  enabled  them  to  appeal  to  their  hearers,  that  thej 
could  be  opposed  only  by  a  concealment  of  the  fundamental 
truths  of  the  gospel.  He  would  guard  these  truths,  not  bj 
keeping  them  back,  but  only  by  proposing  them  in  connex- 
ion with  all  the  other  truths  with  which  they  stand  combined 
in  scripture.  But  a  letter,  already  inserted,  may  speak  his 
sentiments  upon  this  subject.* — And  if  the  testimony  of 
another  witness  be  at  all  called  for,  we  may  adduce  that  of 
a  late  venerable  person,  repeatedly  alluded  to  in  this  work, 
Mr.  Richardson  of  York.  Writing  of  him  only  a  few  days 
before  his  own  death^  Mr.  R.  says,  "I  had  the  highest  re- 
spect for  that  most  useful,  laborious,  and  honest  man.  He 
was  always  practical,  but  never  tampered  with  the  doctrines 
of  grace,  which  he  taught  clearly  and  fully.  He  is  a  safe 
guide,  never  fanciful,  never  running  into  extremes." 

On  the  last  head,  of  practical  strictness,  a  hope  was  ex- 
pressed, that  an  improvement  had  taken  place  among  many 
of  the  class  of  persons  called  evangelical,  since  my  father 
commenced  his  ministry:  on  the  present,  may  there  not  be 
room  to  suggest  a  caution,  lest  we,  who  have  been  brought 
up  in  familiarity  with  those  great  truths,  which  burst  upon 
some  of  our  predecessors  with  all  the  impression  of  a  first 
discovery,  should  exhibit  them  less  vividly,  and  press  them 
less  earnestly,  than  our  fathers  did;  lest  the  gospel  of  Christ 
should  be  diluted,  and  so  far  at  least  adulterated  in  our 
hands? 


Having  thus  accomplished  the  task  which  devolved  o» 
me,  of  giving  to  the  public  as  full  and  faithful  an  account,  as 
I  was  able,  of  my  ever  dear  and  honored  father's  Hfe — in 
doing  which  I  have  certainly  enjoyed  great  pleasure,  though 
attended  with  considerable  anxiety, — I  shall  now  take  leave 
of  the  reader  by  offering  a  few  reflections  on  what  has  passed 
in  review  before  us. 

1.  When  I  turned  from  the  solemnities  of  my  flither's 
dying  chamber,  the  following  thoughts,  among  many  others, 
forcibly  suggested  themselves  to  my  mind. 

••'Who  could  stand  and  witness  that  scene,  without  being 
impressed  with  the  reality  and  magnitude  of  those  objects 

•  See  page  143. 


Chap.  XVIII.]  CONCLUSION.  ^  446 

which  engrossed  all  his  thoughts:  about  which  he  had 
always  been  deeply  in  earnest,  but  which  now  called  forth 
in  hira  an  earnestness  greater  than  ever? 

"Who  could  contemplate  his  spirit  and  temper,  the  vigor 
and  fervency  of  his  mind,  the  holy  affections  which  he  man- 
ifested, and  the  ardor  with  which  he  aspired  to  a  higher 
State,  without  feeling  sure^  that  he  was  not  going  to  be  ex- 
tinguished, but,  on  the  contrary,  to  rise  to  a  superior  exist- 
ence, the  blessedness  of  which  surpassed  our  comprehen- 
sion?" 

To  the  same  purport,  may  I  not  now  ask,  can  any  one 
deliberately  survey  the  contents  of  this  volume;  the  history 
of  him  to  whom  it  relates;  the  whole  of  his  spirit  and  man- 
ner of  life;  his  correspondence,  his  conversation  in  the 
world,  and  the  event  of  his  course;  without  deriving  from 
it  all  a  most  impressive  lesson  on  the  reality  and  blessedness 
of  true  religion? — To  say  one  word  on  his  sincerity  in  his 
profession  would  be  utterly  impertinent.  No  one  does,  no 
one  can  call  it  in  question.  His  religion  was  not  only 
sincere,  it  had  a  deep  and  most  powerful  hold  upon  his 
mind;  it  was  the  all-pervading  principle  which  governed 
his  life.  He  was  every  where  the  same;  in  his  private 
correspondence,  in  the  bosom  of  his  own  family,  and  in  all 
his  intercourse  with  his  friends.  The  w©rld  was  every 
where  subordinated,  and  reduced  to  a  very  low  rank  indeed 
in  his  esteem;  God  and  eternity  were  every  thing.  Indeed, 
so  profound  was  the  impression,  and,  at  the  same  time,  so 
wise  and  consistent  the  conduct  which  it  dictated,  that  it 
was  scarcely  possible  to  observe  him,  without  an  inward 
conviction  that  he  was  right^  as  well  as  sincere;  that  the 
principle  on  which  he  was  acting  was  sound  and  well  found- 
ed. Irreligion  could  not  but  stand  abashed  in  his  presence, 
and  pay  the  homage  of  conscious  inferiority  and  worthless- 
ness. 

The  effect  produced  upon  him  by  his  religion  was  indeed 
most  powerful.  We  have  seen  that  it  made  him  a  new  man. 
It  subdudd  his  natural  pride,  and  ambition,  and  love  of  the 
world,  and  selfishness;  and  turned  all  the  energies  of  his 
character  into  a  new  channel.  Its  mighty  influence  was 
seen  not  only  in  the  first  great  change  which  it  accomplish- 
ed; but  it  continued  and  increased  to  the  end  of  life;  so  that 
patience,  and  meekness,  and  gentleness,  gradually  more  and 
more  took  place  of  natural  impetuosity  and  vehemence,  till 
at  length  they  almost  wholly  supplanted  their  antagonists, 
38 


446  CONCLUSION.  [Chap.  XVIII. 

The  influence  exerted  upon  him  was,  consequently,  no 
less  excellent  and  blessed  than  it  was  powerful.  It  was  blessed, 
as  his  own  mind  was  concerned;  and  it  was  evidently,  from 
the  first,  preparing  him  for  higher  blessedness,  by  making 
him  "meet  to  be  partaker  of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in 
light." — It  was  blessed  in  all  its  effects  upon  his  family,  and 
near  friends  and  dependents:  who  now  "arise  and  call  him 
blessed,"  and  dwell  with  unspeakable  delight  and  thankful- 
ness on  what  they  have  witnessed  in  him,  and  derived  from 
him. — And  it  was  blessed  in  all  that  usefulness  which  fol- 
lowed from  it  to  multitudes,  whose  number  shall  then  first 
be  known  when  they  come  forth  to  be,  "his  joy  and  crown 
of  rejoicing  in  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus." 

2.  Another  reflection  which  forcibly  suggests  itself, 
arises  from  the  comparison  of  his  early,  with  his  more  ad- 
vanced life;  of  what  he  originally  was  with  what  he  ulti- 
mately became.  Who,  from  the  consideration  of  his  edu- 
cation, his  character,  and  the  circumstances  in  which  he 
was  placed,  till  more  than  the  youthful  period  of  life  had 
elapsed,  would  have  anticipated  his  attaining  and  achieving 
what  we  have  seen  him  achieve  and  attain?  But  this  is 
only  one  among  unnumbered  instances  of  the  like  dispensa- 
tions of  Almighty  God.  It  was  not  exclusively  in  the  case  of 
the  apostles  and  primitive  Christians,  taken  in  general  from 
the  humblest  classes  of  society,  that,  "God  chose  the  foolish 
things  of  the  world,  to  confound  the  wise;  and  weak  things  of 
the  world  to  confound  the  mighty;  and  base  things  of  the 
world,  and  things  which  are  despised,  yea,  and  things  which 
are  not,  to  bring  to  nought  things  that  are:  ( 1  Cor.  i,26 — 28:) 
but  it  is  surprising,  and  to  the  pious  mind  deeply  and  pleas- 
ingly affecting,  in  looking  back  through  the  histories  of  the 
church,  and  of  the  world,  to  observe  how  much  the  princi- 
ple of  this  remark  holds  good.  Not  only  have  the  most  un- 
promising characters  been,  in  many  instances,  made  monu- 
ments of  the  saving  mercy  and  grace  of  God:  but  the  most 
unlikely  instruments  have  generally  been  made  the  means  of 
effecting  the  greatest  purposes. 

Not  to  ascend  at  all  above  our  own  age,  or  to  depart  from 
the  particular  class  of  individuals  with  whom  the  present -me- 
moirs immediately  connect  us,  (though  it  would  be  easy  to  do 
both  so  as  to  interest  and  aflect  the  pious  reader.)  I  may  ask, 
who  would  have  anticipated,  in  looking  to  their  early  his- 
tories, that  Newton  should  have  become  so  beloved  and 
houored  a  father  in  the  church  of  Christ,  as  thousands  ac- 


Chap.  XVIII.]  CONCLUSION.  447 

knowledge  him  to  be;  or  that  Buchanan  should  have  quitted 
his  native  Scotland  in  so  singular  a  manner,  to  prove  the 
most  efficient  leader  in  the  great  cause  of  Indian  Christianiza- 
tion?  No  more  could  any  one  have  supposed  that  an  almost 
outcast  Lincolnshire  shepherd  would  become  the  commen- 
tator on  scripture,  whose  work  should  possess  decidedly  the 
greatest  practical  utility,  and  bid  fair  to  be  the  most  widely 
read,  of  any  similar  production  of  the  age. 

Reflections  like  these  may  not,  I  am  aware,  be  agreeable 
to  all  readers:  but,  if  they  be  Ibunded  on  undeniable  facts,  it 
neither  becomes  us  to  rebel  against  them,  nor  to  avert  our 
thouglits  from  them.  The  design  of  divine  wisdom  in  such 
an  ordination  of  events  is  pointed  out,  in  immediate  coonex* 
ion  with  the  passage  already  quoted  at  the  commencement 
of  the  present  observations:  "-that  no  flesh  should  glory  in 

his  presence but,  according  as  it  isf  written.  He  that  glo- 

rielh,  let  him  glory  in  the  Lord."  (1  Cor.  i,  29,  3L)  And 
even  where  this  train  of  thought  may  lead  us  not  only  to 
cases  of  extraordinary  usefulness,  but  even  to  the  subject  of 
the  attainment  of  that  knowledge  wherein  'standeth  our  eter- 
nal life,'  it  will  be  found  to  border  closely  upon  topics, 
which  produced  the  only  recorded  instance  of  joy  in  the 
breast  of  him  who  sojourned  here  below  as  "the  man  of  sor- 
rows:" '4n  that  hour  Jesus  rejoiced  in  spirit,  and  said,  I 
thank  thee,  O  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  because 
thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and 
hast  revealed  them  unto  babes!  Even  so.  Father,  for  so  it 
seemed  good  in  thy  sight."  This  is  the  perfect  pattern  of 
that  humble,  admiring  adoration,  with  which  those  depths 
of  the  divine  counsels  are  to  be  contemplated,  which,  in  this 
world  at  least,  we  must  never  expect  to  fathom. 

At  the  same  time,  instances,  like  those  to  which  we  have 
been  adverting,  furnish  no  excuse  for  the  neglect  of  the 
ordinary  means  of  becoming  both  good  and  useful;  nor  any 
pretence  for  the  insinuation  sometimes  made,  of  our  teaching 
that  tha  way  to  be  "brought  nigh"  to  God  is,  to  depart  as 
"far  off"  from  him  as  possible.  No:  whatever  forms  the 
"ordinary"  means  of  conducting  to  goodness  and  usefulness 
possesses  by  virtue  of  its  very  character,  ixs  the  ordinary 
means,  an  undeniable  claim  to  be  employed  by  us;  and, 
where  faithfully  employed,  it  shall  never  be  in  vain.  This, 
however,  shall  not  hinder  but  that  God  will  from  time  to 
time  shew,  that  he  can  effect  more  without  our  usual  means, 
than  we  can  by  all  our  means,  without  his  special  blessingr 


448  CONCLUSION.  [Chap.  XVill. 

— ^just  as  in  the  intellectual  world,  he  sometimes  raises  up  a 
genius  which  shall  surpass,  without  rules  and  instruction, 
>yhatever  minds  of  the  customary  standard  can  attain  with 
all  advantages  in  their  favor. 

In  like  manner  to  affirm  that  sometimes  God  brings  nearest 
to  himself  those  who  had  wandered  iarthest  from  him,  af- 
fords not  even  a  plausible  pretext  for  saying,  that  the  way 
to  obtain  abundant  grace  is  to  commit  abundant  sin.  God 
does  sometimes  exhibit  such  monuments  of  his  mercy;  but 
these  are  his  extraordinary,  and  not  his  ordinary  works. 
The  abuse  of  such  instances  was  guarded  against  in  an  early 
part  of  these  memoirs  *  They  are  what  all  should  ad- 
mire,—"to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of  God's  grace,'*-wherever 
they  occur,  but  on  the  occurrence  of  which  no  man  can,  in 
any  given  instance,  calculate. 

3.  In  the  third  place,  my  father's  history  strikingly  illus- 
trates the  immense  advantage  of  such  a  thorough  study  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  accompanied  by  constant  prayer  for 
illumination  to  the  great  fountain  of  wisdom,  as  marked  his 
religious  course  from  its  very  commencement.  In  this  was 
evidently  laid  the  foundation  of  all  that  subsequently  distin- 
guished him;  of  the  steadiness  and  consistency  of  his  views; 
of  the  assured  confidence  he  felt  in  the  principles  which  he 
had  embraced;  of  his  competence  as  an  instructor  and  a 
counsellor;  of  those  valuable  qualities  which  characterized 
his  theology;  and  finally  of  his  extensive,  and,  it  may  confi- 
dently be  anticipated,  permanent  usefulness.  And  if  the 
question  be  examined,  it  will,  I  believe,  be  found  that  a 
course  of  procedure,  substantially  similar,  has  prepared  for 
future  service  almost  all  those  divines  who  have  obtained 
eminent  reputation,  and  lasting  usefulness,  in  the  church  of 
God.  A  thorough  study  of  the  scriptures  themselves,  with 
the  use  of  proper  helps,  but  without  reliance  upon  them, 
and  not  of  any  mere  human  systems,  should  form  the  basis 
of  our  professional  knowledge.  This  is  a  homage  due  to 
the  word  of  God;  and  it  is  the  only  measure  that  can  ma-ke 
us  "grounded  and  settled,"  "workmen  that  need  not  to  be 
ashamed." — Yet  how  greatly  is  it  wanting  even  among  our 
more  serious  and  pious  clergy!  I  speak  with  a  painful  sense 
of  my  own  deficiencies,  in  this  respect;  though  without  af- 
fecting to  think  them  greater  than  those  of  many  around 
me.     If  the  perusal  of  my  father's  history  might  promote^ 

•  See  page  23. 


Chap.  XVIIL]  CONCLUSION.  449 

among  the  younger  members  of  the  clerical  profession,  a 
deep  study  of  the  whole  sacred  volume,  and,  through  life, 
a  constant  comparison  of  all  they  read  and  hear  with  its 
contents,  I  can  conceive  of  no  result  which  it  would  have 
given  him  greater  pleasure  to  contemplate. 

4.  Lastly:  I  have  already  pointed  it  out,  as  an  important 
lesson  suggested  by  my  father's  history,  to  those  who,  amid 
the  difficulties  of  this  world,  are  striving  to  do  good,  espe- 
cially in  the  work  of  the  ministry, — that  a  course,  which 
is  deeply  painful  and  discouraging  at  the  time,  may,  and,  if 
well  supported,  assuredly  will,  prove  highly  useful  in  the 
event.  That  my  father's  usefulness  was  great,  and  is  likely 
still  to  be  so,  I  now  assume.  Yet  that  his  course  was,  dur- 
ing the  far  greater  part  of  its  duration,  painful  and  discour- 
agmg  in  no  common  degree,  is  well  known  to  those  who* 
had  the  opportunity  of  taking  a  near  view  of  it,  and  must 
be  evident  to  all,  who  have  duly  estimated  the  neglect  or 
opposition  he  encountered  at  Olney;  the  severer  and  more 
protracted  conflicts  at  the  Lock,  maintained  against  prevail- 
ing evils,  and  under  the  pressure  of  most  disheartening  un- 
popularity; and  the  difficulties  with  which  he  had  to  strug- 
gle, more  or  less,  for  five  and  twenty  years  together,  in  giv- 
ing his  Commentary  on  the  Bible  to  the  world.  Yet  all  has 
had  such  an  issue,  as  may  justly  add  confidence  to  the  faith, 
and  animation  to  the  hope  of  every  true  soldier  and  servant 
of  Jesus  Christ.  In  encountering  difficulties,  and  suffering 
discouragement,  in  our  labors  of  zeal  for  God  and  love  to 
mankind,  we  are  but  followers  of  '4hose,  who  through  faith 
and  patience, — having  done  the  will  of  God, — now  inherit 
his  promises."  Prophets  and  apostles  have  trod  this  path 
before  us;  and  assuredly  what  we  have  to  encounter,  com- 
pared with  what  they  overcame,  is  such  as  may  more  justly 
subject  us,  if  we  be  "weary  and  faint  in  our  minds,"  to  the 
reproof  which  was  addressed  to  one  of  their  number:  "If 
thou  hast  run  with  the  footmen  and  they  have  wearied  thee, 
what  wilt  thou  do  if  thou  shalt  contend  with  horses?" — Even 
the  Son  of  God,  is  prophetically  represented  as  tempted  to 
say,  while  he  sojourned  amongst  us,  "1  have  labored  in 
vain  and  spent  my  strength  for  nought:';  but  he  instantly 
subjoins,  (thus  setting  us  the  perfect  example  of  resigna- 
tion and  trust  in  his  heavenly  Father;)  "Nevertheless  my 
\f  ork  is  with  the  Lord,  and  my  judgment  is  with  my  God." 
Let  us  then  assuredly  believe,  that,  in  our  labors  for  oth- 
ers, as  well  as  in  our  care  for  our  own  personal  salvation^ 
*38 


450  CONCLUSION.  [Chap.  XVIII. 

"He  thatgoeth  forth  and  weepeth,  bearingi  precious  seed, 
shall  doubtless  come  again  with  rejoicing,  bringing  his 
sheaves  with  him."  And  in  this  confidence  let  us  endeavor, 
after  the  example  of  the  servant  of  God,  whose  unwearied 
exertions,  continued  to  the  end  of  a  long  life,  we  have  been 
contemplating,  to  be  "steadfast,  unmovable,  always  abound- 
ing in  the  work  of  the  Lord;  forasmuch  as  we  know  that 
our  labor  ig  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord."     Amen! 


A 

BRIEF    MEMOIR 

OF    MR.    §COTT"S    ELDEST    DAUGHTER,    WHO    DIED   AT   WESTON 
UNDERWOOD,  IN  MAY  1780; 

Annexed  by  him  to  his  Narrative  of  hi»  own  Life. 


"In  a  former  part  of  this  narrative  I  just  mentioned  the  death 
of  my  eldest  daughter,  aged  four  years  and  a  half,  and  I  shall 
here  subjoin  a  few  more  particulars  respeciing  her. — At  the 
age  of  three  years  and  a  half  she  had  a  most  extraordinary 
and  distressing  illness,  so  that  for  several  weeks  she  could 
not  be  induced  to  take  either  medicine  or  nutriment  of  any 
kind,  but  what  was  poured  down  her  throat  almost  by  main 
force.  I  had  little  expectation  of  her  recovery:  but  I  was 
under  a  full  and  deep  conviction  that  all  the  human  race 
are  born  in  sin,  and  are  utterly  incapable  of  happiness  here- 
after, without  regeneration  and  renovation  by  the  Holy 
Spirit.  This,  if  actually  wrought  in  childhood,  I  was  satis- 
fied would  begin  to  shew  itself  about  the  time  when  children 
become  actual  sinners  by  personal  and  wilful  transgression: 
and  I  was  fully  assured  that  she  had  become  an  actual  sin- 
ner. Seeing  therefore  no  ground  to  believe  that  any  gra- 
cious change  had  taken  place  in  her,  I  was  greatly  distress- 
ed about  her  eternal  state:  and  I  repeatedly  and  most  ear- 
nestly besought  the  Lord  that  he  would  not  take  her  from 
me,  without  affording  me  some  evidence  of  her  repentance, 
and  faith  in  his  mercy  through  Jesus  Christ. 

"To  the  surprise  of  all  she  recovered,  and  lived  just  an- 
other year.  Half  of  this  year  was  remarkable  for  nothing, 
except  the  proofs  which  she  gave  of  a  very  good  under- 
standing, and  the  readiness  with  which  she  learned  whatev- 
er was  taught  her.  Indeed  she  almost  taught  herself  to 
read;  and  was  so  much  the  astonishment  of  our  neighbors^ 
that  they  expressed  a  persuasion  that  she  would  not  live 
long — which  I  treated  with  contempt.  But  about  the  middle 
of  the  year,  on  my  return  home  one  evening,  my  wife  told 
me  that  her  daughter  had  behaved  very  ill,  and  been  so  re- 


452  MEMOIR. 

bellious  and  obstinate,  that  she  had  been  constrained  to  cor- 
rect her.  In  consequence  I  took  her  between  my  knees,  and 
began  to  talk  to  her.  I  told  her  she  had  often  heard  that 
she  was  a  sinner  against  God:  that  sin  was  breaking  the  com- 
mandments of  God:  that  he  had  commanded  her  to  honor 
and  obey  her  father  and  mother:  but  that  she  had  disobeyed 
her  mother,  and  thus  sinned  against  God  and  made  him 
angry  at  her — far  more  angry  than  her  mother  had  been: 
that  she  had  also  often  heard  that  she  must  have  a  new 
heart  or  disposition:  that,  if  her  heart  or  disposition  were 
not  wicked,  she  would  not  thus  want  a  new  one;  but  that 
her  obstinate  rebellious  conduct  to  her  mother  (with  some 
other  instances  which  I  mentioned,)  shewed  that  her  heart 
was  wicked:  that  she  therefore  wanted  both  forgiveness  of 
sins  and  a  new  heart,  without  which  she  could  not  be  hap- 
py in  another  world,  after  death.  I  went  on  to  talk  with  her, 
in  language  suited  to  her  age,  concerning  the  love,  and  mer- 
cy, and  grace,  of  Christ,  in  a  manner  which  I  cannot  now 
particularly  describe:  but  my  heart  was  much  engaged,  and 
wit  of  the  abundance  of  my  heart  my  mouth  spoke:  and  I  con- 
cluded with  pressing  it  upon  her  constantly  to  pray  to  Jesus 
Christ  to  forgive  her  sins;  to  give  her  a  new  heart;  and  not 
to  let  her  die  till  he  had  indeed  done  so. 

"1  have  good  ground  to  believe  that,  from  that  time  to 
her  death,  no  day  passed  in  which  she  did  not,  alone,  more 
than  once,  and  with  apparent  earnestness,  pray  to  Jesus 
Christ  to  this  effect;  adding  petitions  for  her  father,  mother, 
and  brothers,  and  lor  her  nurse — to  whom  she  was  much 
attached.  At  times  we  overheard  her  in  a  little  room  to 
which  she  used  to  retire;  and  on  some  occasions  her  prayers 
were  accompanied  with  sobs  and  tears.  Once  she  was 
guilty  of  an  untruth;  and  1  reasoned  and  expostulated  with 
her  on  the  wickedness  of  lying.  I  almost  seem  now  to  hear 
her  subsequent  confessions  in  her  retirement;  her  cries  for 
forgiveness;  her  prayers  for  a  new  and  better  heart;  and 
that  she  might  not  die  'before  her  new  heart  came.'  She 
could  scarcely  proceed  for  sobs  and  tears. — In  short  there 
was  every  thing  in  miniature,  which  I  ever  witnessed  or 
read  of  in  an  adult  penitent:  and  certainly  there  were  fruits 
meet  for  repentance;  for  nothing  reprehensible  afterwards 
occurred  in  her  conduct. 

"Just  at  this  time  the  OIney  Hymns  were  published:  and, 
without  any  one  puttmg  her  upon  it,  she  got  many  of  them 
"by  heart;  and  for  gome  months,  the  first  voice  which   I 


MEMOm.  433 

heard  in  ihe  morning,  was  her's,  repenting-  these  hymns, 
and  those  of"  Dr.  Watts:  and  frequently  i-;he  vvoiikl  come  to 
me  to  tell  me  what  a  heautilal  hymn  she  had  i'ouud,  and 
then  repeat  it  without  book. 

"I  might  recite  m.m}^  ot'her  sayings,  which,  parental  par- 
tiality apart,  I  must  think  surpassed  what  1  have  heard  from 
one  so  young.  The  favorite  servant,  who  has  been  mention- 
ed, sometimes  used  the  name  of  God  or  Lord  in  an  improper 
manner,  and  the  child  would  aflfectioafitely  remonstrate 
with  her,  and  say,  'Do  not  use  such  words,  Kitty:  you  will 
certainly  go  to  hell  if  you  say  such  naughty  words.'  She 
evidently  understood  the  great  outlines  of  the  plan  of  salva- 
tion. Tapa,'  she  said,  "you  preached  to-day  concerning 
the  Lamb's  blood.'  I  answered,  'What  does  that  mean? 
She  replied,  'The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lamb  of  God 
which  taketh  away  the  burden  of  sin  out  of  our  hearts.' — 
The  day  preceding  her  death,  she  read  to  me  a  chapter  in 
St.  John,  in  which  the  Jews  charged  Jesus  with  breaking 
the  sabbath.  On  this  she  paused  and  said,  'Papa,  did  Jesus 
Christ  ever  break  the  sabbath?'  1  answered,  'No:  but  he 
did  good  on  the  sabbath-day,  and  his  enemies  called  that 
breaking  the  sabbath.'  'J  thought  so,'  she  said:  'Jesus  was 
always  good;  but  we  are  all  naughty  till  he  makes  us  good. 
Peter  was  a  good  man:  but  Peter  was  naughty  till  Jesus 
Christ  made  him  good.' 

"When  any  minister  or  pious  friend  came  to  see  me,  no 
play  or  amusement  would  draw  her  away  from  us  when  our 
conversation  was  on  religious  topics.  She  would  stand  tixed 
in  attention,  and  evidently  interested  in  what  was  said.  She 
seldom  spoke  on  these  occasions;  but  she  would  sometimes 
ask  me  questions  afterwards  on  what  she  had  heard. 

"The  day  before  she  died  the  Rev.  Mr.  Powley  of  Dews- 
bury,  in  Yorkshire,  (who  had  married  iVIrs.  Unwin's  daugh- 
ter,) had  engaged  to  come  to  see  me,  and  to  preach  in  the 
evening.  After  dinner  I  employed  myself,  as  I  frequently 
did,  in  sawing  wood  for  fuel.  She  came  and  prattled  with 
me,  and  several  times  by  degrees  got  so  near  me,  that  I 
feared  the  large  pieces  of  wood  would  fall  on  her.  I  sent 
her  further  off:  yet  still,  intent  on  our  talk,  she  crept  near 
again,  till  at  length  a  very  large  log,  which  could  scarcely 
have  failed  to  kill  her,  had  it  fallen  upon  her,  rolled  down, 
and  only  just  missed  her.  While  very  thankful  for  her  pre- 
servation, httle  did  I  think  that  a  very  few  hours  would  de- 
prive me  of  ray  darhng  child. 


464  MEMOIR. 

''I  had  scarcely  got  into  the  house  to  prepare  lor  my 
Tisilant,  when  she  came  to  me  and  said,  4  am  very  sick; 
what  must  I  do?'  1  said,  'You  must  pray  for  patience/  She 
a-^ked,  'What  is  patier.ce?'  and  bel'ore  I  could  answer,  she 
was  so  ill  that  she  could  only  go  into  the  next  room  to  the 
servant,  where  the  most  violent  symptoms  followed.  As  I 
was  engaged  with  my  friend,  and  with  the  preaching,  having 
ordered  her  some  medicines,  I  did  not  see  her  for  several 
hours:  but  when  1  did  I  was  fully  convinced  that  her  sick- 
ness wjas  fatal.  Some  further  means  were  used,  but  wholly 
without  elTect;  and  she  expired  at  ten  o'clock  the  next  morn- 
ing, while  repeating  the  Lord's  prayer,  the  concluding 
words  of  which  were  the  last  she  spoke. 

''Her  disorder  was  an  attack  of  scarlet  fever,  which  Dr. 
Kerr  siated  to  be  of  a  very  peculiar  kind,  and  that  the  case 
was  hopeless  from  the  first.  I  had  attended  fifty  or  sixty 
persons  in  that  disease,  and  all  recovered  except  my  owa 
child. 

"She  died  On  the  Thursday  morning,  and  on  the  next 
evening  at  my  lecture  at  Ravenstone,  where  I  had  under- 
taken to  preach  through  part  of  the  book  of  Job,  the  text 
vphich  came  in  course  was  Job  i,  21 — The  Lord  gave  and  the 
Lord  hath  takeii  away:  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord!  and 
on  this  I  prea<i;hed  notwithstanding  the  death  of  my  child. 
It  would  be  in  vain  to  attempt  to  describe  either  my  anguish 
or  my  exultation  on  this  trying,  yet  animating  occasion. 
Sorrow  and  joy  succeeded  each  other  in  the  highest  degree, 
and  often  in  the  most  rapid  manner,  that  I  ever  experien- 
ced: and  sometimes  they  were  pathetically,  dolefully,  yet 
sweetly  intermingled.  Prayer  and  thanksgiving  seemed 
my  main  employment.  I  never  obtained  such  a  victory 
over  the  fear  of  death  as  by  looking,  for  a  long  time  together, 
on  her  corpse.  Gradually  sorrow  abated,  and  joy  prevailed; 
and  I  often  said,  I  would  not  exchange  my  dead  child  for  any 
living  child  in  the  world  of  the  same  age.  Some  have  told 
me  that  her  religious  turn  was  only  the  effect  of  her  hear- 
ing so  much  on  the  subject,  and  had  nothing  so  extraordi- 
nary in  it:  but  I  never  could  see  any  thing  of  the  same  kind 
in  my  other  children  at  so  early  an  age,  nor  till  thej'  were 
much  older:  though  they  had  at  least  the  same  advantages." 

THE    END. 


\^Bost07i,  August  17 f  1822. 

Scott's  Family  Bible, 

^^  new  edition  ivith  the  Jluthor^s  last  corrections. 


PROPOSAL 

By  Samuel  T.  Armstrong,  Boston,  &  John  P.  Haven,  New  York, 

For  Publishing  an  edition  of 

SCOTT'S  FAMILY  BIBLE 

IN    SIX   VOLUMES    OCTAVO. 

From  the  stereotype  edition  just    published  in  Eng- 
land, containing  the  Author's  last  corrections. 

TERMS. 

I.  It  shall  be  well  printed  on  good  white  royal  paper,  with  a  new 
tvpe  cast  expressly  for  the  work,  and  be  equal  to  the  other  editions 
from  the  same  press. 

II.  It  will  be  comprised  in  six  large  volumes,  about  700  pages 
each  on  an  average,  containing  the  Old  and  New  Testaments 
with  the  Introductory  Observations  to  the  Books,  &;c.  and  the 
NOTES  and  PRACTICAL  OBSERVAl  lONJ. 

III.  Persons  who  procure  subscribers  for  this  work  will  be  allow- 
ed EVERY  SIXTH  COPY  GRATIS;  2  copies  for  10;  3  for  15;  and 
in  the  same  proportion  for  any  number,  however  large,  ()::y="and  if 
only  TWO  COPIES  are  taken,  a  reasonable  compensation  will  be  made, 
in  order  that  no  one  may  lose  the  benefit  of  exertions. 

IV.  The  price,  well  done  up  in  boards  with  strong  cartridge  paper 
backs,  will  be  3  dollars  a  volume,  or  $18  for  thft  whole  set; — if  bound 
in  sheep  and  lettered,  with  douhle  titles,  it  will  be  $3,50  a  volume, 
or  21  dollars  for  the  whole  set,  payable  on  delivery.  A  volume  will 
be  published  about  once  in  three  months.  Volume  L  will  appear  in 
October  next. 

RECOMMENDATION. 

liev.  Joseph  Emerson^  Jlnthor  of  Evangelical  pHtner,  &c. *'Eight 

eriitious  of  this  great  work  have  been  publislud  in  this  country. f  have 

had  cousiderable  opporiimity  to  examine  and  compare  specimens  of  all 
these  eight  editions,  and  am  decidediv  otoj  luion,  tliat  most  people  vould 
greatly  prefer  AKMSTKONG'S  EDITION,  now  puWishing  in  BosKm. 
As  tlife  fold  is  octavo,  the  vohimes  are  not  nearly  so  large  as  those  of  the 
quarto  editions;  but  the  pai>er  is  finer  and  whiter;  the  execution  hand- 
somer; tlie  print,  to  appearance,  neai  ly  as  large;  and  as  it  can  be  turned 
to  the  light  with  much  less  inconvenience,  it  may  perhaps  be  read  with 
equal  ease  and  pleasure.  It  has  the  advantage  of  being  cheaper,  less 
cumbersome,  and   more    eU,gant. 

-ARMSTKONt^'S  EDI!  ION,  therefore,  is  the  one  which  I  can 
most  Jnghly  recommeni!  for  the  use  of  families.  It  is  peculiarly  cal- 
'  ulaicd    to  supersede  the  use  of  a    large  Bible;    and   m   two  respects 


Proposal  for   Scotfs  Family  Bible. 

it  will  answer  a  better  purpose;  merely  for  reading  the  scriptures,  aft 
it  is  less  cumbersome,  and  may  be  read  by  several  persons  at  tUe 
same  time." 

Extracts  of  letters  to  the  publisher  lately  received. 

*'I  have  circulated  proposals  for  Scott's  Bible;  how  many  have  been 
engaged  in  all  1  cannot  tell;  but  between  2U  and  3J  sets  in  this  vicin- 
ity.    J.  S." 

"Rev.  S.  S.  of  P    has  obtained  ten  subscribers.    Yours,  E.  R." 
*'I  have  obtaijied  four  subscribers  for  the  excellent  work  you  are  pub- 
lishing.    H.  S." 

<•!  will  take  ten  sets  (of  Scott's  Bible)  bound  and  lettered.    .1.  F." 
*«I  think  I  shall  dispose  of  20  sets  or  more  of  the  Family  Bible.  E   B." 
"1  have  obtained  subscribers  for  nine  copies  of  Scott's  Family  Bible. 
J.  C." 

«'I  shall  probably  need  8  or  10  sets  of  Scott's  Family  Bible.  J.  P." 
«'It  is  with  extreme  pleasure  I  perceive  you  are  about  to  pubJish  a  new 
edition  of  Scott's  Bible.  Having  been  in  possession  of  it  more  than  20 
years  I  trust  1  know  something  of  its  value,  and  am  determined  to  pro- 
mote its  cii'culation  among  my  friends.  You  will  please  forward  six 
copies  as  soon  as  published.     G.  M  " 

*'I  propose  to  take  seven  sets  of  Scott's  Bible,  and  will  be  account- 
able for  the  same.     J.  C." 

•  I  have  observed  that  you  are  about  publishing  another  edition  of  Scott's 
Bible.  I  hope  you  may  succeed  as  you  have  done  in  former  editions. 
I  have  been  endeavoring  to  procure  subscribers  among  our  people,  and 
ten  or  more  subscribers  will  be  obtained.     O.  S.  H." 

'*Aug.  1,182'<J.  Dear  Sir, — \  have  procured  1<'6  subscribers  to  the 
Bible;  6  sets  to  be  bound  in  calf;  3  sets  to  be  done  up  in  boards,  the  other 
97  sets,  bound  and  lettered  as  described  in  the  prospectus.    H.  C.  M.  L.'* 

We  the  svibscribers  agree  to  take  of  SAMUEL  T.  ARMSTRONG  S  Edition  of 
Scott's  Family  Bible,  the  number  of  copies  affixed  to  our  names. 

subscribers'  names.  residence.  no.  of  copies. 


?£3 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


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